


The Lovely Sundering

by rubrikate



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Blood Play, F/M, Halloween, Romance, Spooky, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2020-11-09 01:03:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 44,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20844992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubrikate/pseuds/rubrikate
Summary: Copia is a vampire. That's it. That's the story.





	1. Introductions and Rumors

_ Sweden _

_ September 30th, 2016 _

_ 4:46 PM _

She could hear her boss talking on the phone: with his office door ajar, she could hear him speaking in hushed tones with someone. His voice was low, almost a whisper into the receiver. He seemed tense, the way he stared ahead of himself and gripped the notepad in front of him. She squinted at him from her position in front of the main computer, she had been cataloging maps in their system, but now she was eavesdropping. The National Archive was silent this time of day, anyway. No one in and no one out, no customers, no one asking questions. It was just Annika and her boss. Occasionally they’d get deliveries or they’d have to move boxes. But it was almost the end of the day, at the end of the week, so it was slow. This phone call though, even Annika had to admit, was odd at this time of day. It didn’t last long though. She went back to organizing files on the computer as soon as she heard her boss bid his farewells to whoever he was speaking to. The phone clanked down heavily onto the base. She could hear him rustling around and sighing to himself. Finally, he pulled the door to his office all the way open. 

“Annika, listen,” he said in his usual gentle tone, “we have a special collector who is coming by soon. He’s going to want to see some maps we have stored in the climate controlled room. Do me a favor and pull drawer numbers 15-19, section B59.” He began to rub at his eyes with the heels of his hands for a moment. She pushed an errant strand of blonde hair behind her left ear as she stood up from her stool in front of the computer. 

“Are you alright, Lennart?” she asked, “You keep rubbing your eyes.” He shook his head. 

“I’m fine, I’m tired and my eyes hurt. It’s part of getting old, I suppose.” He chuckled, “Now, if you can pull those drawers, I’d be very grateful.” He drew in a sharp breath and opened his eyes wide, shaking his head slightly, his graying hair swaying gently. Annika nodded her head and began to walk off to the stairs, where she went down and down into the basement of the building. Fluorescent lighting bounded off of the clean, concrete walls as she produced a key on a ring from her pocket and unlocked the climate-controlled door. Inside, it was a crisp 17 Celsius all the time, all year round. The maps were all perfectly laid out in their trays, each one numbered by row and section and individual drawer. 

She walked down the one section labeled B59 and began to look for drawers 15-19. Her eyes scanned numbers here and there, up and down, until they were finally able to locate them all and pull them out. Allowing them to sit open and exposed, their trays locked into place so that they wouldn’t fall out or be jostled. With that, she headed back upstairs and as she ascended the concrete steps, she could hear the soft murmuring of voices. She sighed, sticking her key ring back into her pocket, knowing that she now had to play polite librarian to this special collector and pretend that she cared about whatever it was he wanted. She rolled her eyes at the thought as she walked through the doorway and into the main room of the archive. She saw her boss, Lennart, standing in an odd grouping: he was speaking with a man in a black cassock who was flanked by two large men, robed in all black, with their hoods pulled up over top of strange silver masks that covered their faces; only their eyes showed through. 

Annika squinted, tucking her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. She walked a bit slower than she had been, approaching quietly from the basement. As she came up from behind Lennart, he turned around, looking almost relieved. He was wringing his hands together nervously, something he almost never did. His face was very pale, and he was sweating. Annika stared at him for a moment, but just before she could ask him if he was alright, he quickly gestured to their guest. 

“Annika, this is Cardinal Copia. He is the special collector and curator of rare maps that I spoke with you earlier about.” Lennart’s voice was a bit strained and he cleared his throat as he spoke, as though he were in desperate need of water. Annika was not looking at him, nor really paying him any heed now though—she was too busy staring at the man in front of her. He was dressed in an all-black cassock, black leather gloves, black patent leather shoes, and on his head sat a black biretta. His stare was like that of an animal: his mismatched eyes didn’t blink, and the smile on his face seemed as though it were painted on. Annika could hear a bell in her head, something telling her to run, but she couldn’t. She stuck her hand out, offering to shake. 

“Hello, I’m Annika Nyström.” The man did not say a word, but tilted his head slightly to the left, a strange smile on his face, his brow slightly furrowed. The two tall, shrouded, masked men standing behind the Cardinal looked at one another as Lennart quickly pushed Annika’s hand down, forcing some laughter as he did so. Quietly he turned to her and harshly whispered, “They don’t shake, I’ll explain later.” He quickly turned back around and clapped his hands together. 

“Annika has already prepared the maps that you wished to see, Cardinal. They’re downstairs in the climate-controlled room. Section B59, numbers 15-19, as you requested. They should be pulled out and on display. Are they, Annika?” Lennart turned back to her, asking hurriedly. She nodded slowly. 

“Yes, they’re in a locked position. So when you’re done, you can just slide them back in easily enough.” She pressed her lips together uncomfortably and pushed her hands back into her pockets. Her cheeks flushed. She felt like a stupid child, having extended her hand to shake when this man clearly was not of normal social customs. He nodded silently and clasped his hands behind his back, the sound of his leather gloves tightening their hold on one another was audible. 

“Escort me,” the Cardinal said, his voice was much gentler and smoother than she had expected, “please?” He said the last part as though it were an afterthought. Lennart nodded his head and gestured for them to follow him but the Cardinal raised his hand, his mismatched colored eyes locked on Annika. He did not bother to even give a second glance to Lennart. “Annika? Was it?” He tilted his head again ever so slightly; his unblinking, mismatched eyes watching closely, waiting. Annika shifted her weight nervously from one foot to the other. She pulled her hands out of her pockets and rubbed them together. She nodded her head up and down slowly several times before croaking out, “Sure.” 

She gestured for the strange group to follow her and looked down at the floor as she fished the key ring out of her pocket once more. She could hear the sounds of their shoes on the wooden floors as they walked behind her, towards the door down to the climate-controlled room. It was a silent walk down the concrete stairs and back to the section where she had pulled the maps out of their drawers, not anticipating to return so quickly. She gestured with her arm as she spoke, “Here they are.” She stepped back, and the Cardinal walked passed her. At first, he simply stared down at the maps, his hands clasped behind his back, looking here and there as though he were inspecting them for something. Annika watched him closely, her arms folded across her chest, her right foot tapping against the concrete floor. She looked over at the two masked men who had accompanied the Cardinal; they were both watching straight ahead of themselves, their vision locked on the man. Perhaps she was too obvious, but as she stared, one of them turned his head slowly and stared back at her. She quickly looked down at her shoes, pretending to be interested in the laces. 

“These are in rather good condition, considering their age,” the Cardinal said quietly, again his voice almost a whisper. Annika nodded silently, watching the way the Cardinal pushed the first map tray back into its drawer. He was now inspecting the second one. She stood there for a good half an hour, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, over and over and over again. She fidgeted with a loose thread on her shirt. Her eyes darting between the strange Cardinal and his guards, who seemed more like statues than men, with their robes flowing all the way past their feet and onto the floor. She had to stop herself from leaning back against the other shelf of maps, knowing full well how unorthodox, and unsafe, that was. 

Finally, the Cardinal came to the last map. His eyebrows rose as he looked at it, nodding his head a few times. He hummed to himself and pointed at something off on the corner, muttering something under his breath that Annika could neither understand nor hear; simply seeing his lips move. 

“Perhaps you can tell me,” He gestured her over to him. She walked closer but stayed back far enough that she didn’t think his strange guards would mind. “This discoloration here,” he said, pointing to a dark stain on the corner, “what is this from? Do you know? Is it ink?” His voice was a hushed whisper, and she had a hard time making eye contact with him. Instead, she looked down at the map and tried to appear interested—or at least as though she were thinking. 

“I think it might just be from someone spilling something on it. I mean, it could just be coffee or tea. Or even wine? It’s pretty dark though. So, all I can do is guess.” She shrugged as she continued, “I mean, Lennart would be the one to ask. He’d probably be able to test it for you. You know, if you really want to know.” She nodded firmly, trying to sound professional. But the Cardinal simply stood up straight and turned directly to her, his mismatched eyes focused on her. He didn’t blink. 

“I am uninterested in testing. But it is of no matter!” He flashed a disarming smile at her. Annika nodded her head; the smile on her face a small, forced thing. 

“So, is there like a project you’re working on or?” She asked. He shook his head gently, his eyes glancing down at the map again, looking over it as though it were as precious to him as his own child. Annika raised an eyebrow, waiting. 

“I am a collector,” he said quietly. “I have a collection of my own, at home. Where I live.” Annika couldn’t help the small huff of laughter that rolled out of her. 

“At home, where you live? No offense, but ‘home’ is where most people _ do _ live.” She chuckled again, “I’m sorry, that was so rude of me. That was just so funny how you phrased that.” She shook her head and sighed, trying to keep herself from laughing again. The Cardinal squinted at her, tilting his head slightly, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. 

“Do you have an interest in maps as a collector? Or is this simply an occupation?” He asked, once more his voice a soft sound. Annika shrugged. 

“It’s just kind of a job.” She rolled her eyes slightly. “Maps are cool and all, but it definitely helps that it pays well.”

“Being paid well is important, I agree. Especially for your time and your efforts.” He gestured to the open map tray hanging out of its drawer. “Would you be averse to working for a private archive? Are you,” He paused for a moment, leaning in as he spoke. “..._ invested _ here?” Annika laughed outright, and she turned around and glanced at the Cardinals guards: they still stood steadfast and unmoving, now not even glancing at her. As she turned back around, the Cardinal stood a little closer then he had been, his hands still clasped behind his back and his mismatched eyes still boring through her. 

“I mean...” she tilted her head back and forth for a moment, her eyes going wide. “I wouldn’t turn down more pay, if that’s what you’re asking. But I’d have to know how much and all of that.” She cleared her throat. The Cardinal simply nodded and began to walk away. Annika turned around then and pointed to the drawer hanging open. “So, I take it you’re finished here then?” 

He nodded silently and began to walk back to his guards and the door leading upstairs. Annika pushed the drawer back into the shelf, finding herself wondering how much more would be in it for her should she take this strange man up on his offer. With the drawer back in its place, she pulled her key ring from her pocket once more and led the way to the stairs, back up to the main archival library. Once again, they walked in silence, but Annika’s mind reeling with the seemingly slight-of-hand offer she had received. Finally reaching the main floor, she made sure to close the door behind their guests and walked back to the main desk. Lennart was there, filing through some paperwork. He turned around to them as Annika cleared her throat, announcing their return. 

“Ah!” he said quickly, allowing the paperwork to go by the wayside. “I hope you found what you were looking for, Cardinal?” he asked, his eyes skittering between the Cardinal and Annika. The Cardinal nodded his head sharply. 

“I believe so.” He turned to Annika and bowed. “Thank you for your efforts and for your time.” He stood back up again. She nodded her head awkwardly. 

“Sure, anytime!” she said automatically, trying to force a smile across her face. The Cardinal smiled back at her. He held his hand up and snapped his gloved fingers; one of his guards handed him a card, almost as if they were waiting for him to request it. 

“This is the telephone number for our order.” He handed Annika the card. “Should you be interested in our map collection, please, do not hesitate to reach out.” He gave her a curt nod, and as he did so, the heels of his shoes clicked together. Lennart nodded to them all with a forced, pained smile on his face; his eyes locked on the two tall guards behind the Cardinal. With that, the Cardinal turned on one heel and began to walk quickly out of the archive and into the evening, his escort following along behind him closely. 

As the front door opened and shut, the archive fell into a taut silence. Annika stared at the card in her hand: it was beautiful. It was a heavy, thick card stock with incredibly elegant and extraordinarily well done calligraphy on it. She stared at it, flipping it back and forth a couple times as she wandered over to the main desk where Lennart was still standing, watching the door. She smirked at him as she approached.

“You’re watching the door like they’re going to come back and kill us or something. Chill out, Lennart,” she chuckled, ribbing him with her elbow as she passed. “They’re just weird people.” Lennart turned around sharply and grabbed her firmly by the upper arm, forcing her to turn around and face him. She started to speak but he cut her off. 

“Why did he give you that card? Do you know who they are?” His words were rushed and his face was flushed and his eyes wide. Annika put her hand on his gently. 

“Lennart, calm down. It’s alright. He’s just a weird map collector.” She showed him the card. “It’s just his office, I guess. He works for this...” She squinted at the card for a second. “This Emeritus Church thing. Never heard of it, but whatever. I think he’s just an eccentric.” She shrugged again, trying to laugh it off. Lennart’s face fell as he pulled away from her, running a hand through his greying hair. He began to walk over to the main door with a quickness in his pace. Once he reached it, he looked out the window quickly, then locked the door. He pointed to his office as he walked back to the main desk. “Come, I need to show you something.” She followed him, pocketing the card in her back pocket quickly. They both walked into his office, and he sat down in his chair, gesturing for her to close the door. 

“The Emeritus Church is located a ways off from here.” He pointed to the map of Sweden behind his desk. “They have a very _ questionable _presence.” He opened his laptop and began to type. 

“What do you mean? Like, are they bad news?” Annika asked, leaning back in the seat she was sitting in, crossing her arms over her chest. Lennart nodded his head. 

“Well, they’re not labeled as such, but many people avoid them. There’s always been some talk that they may be a cult.” He turned his laptop around and showed her the screen: it was full of links to articles about the Church, every one of them also containing the word “missing persons” highlighted somewhere on the page. Lennart and Annika sat in silence for a moment. Annika could now feel the presence of that card in her back pocket, and it was as though it was burning a hole in her. 

“Have the police ever connected them to the disappearance of anyone?” Annika asked quietly, her eyes still scanning the computer screen in front of her. Lennart shook his head. 

“No.” He turned the laptop back around, “About a decade ago though—I remember because it was on the television—someone turned up and claimed to have been abducted by a member of the Church. She had obviously lost her mind; she was stark raving mad, gaunt, pale, her eyes wild. But you could see it on her face, something had happened to her. Something bad.” Lennart shook his head, his grey hair swaying as he stared down at the keys of his laptop.

“So, you think this guy, this Cardinal, is part of a cult that abducts people. And what? Tortures them? For what purpose?” Annika asked. “You have to forgive me, Lennart, but that’s kind of a stretch.” 

“I don’t claim to know what they do, Annika.” Lennart looked up from the keyboard and stared her directly in the eye. “I just know what I see here and on the news. That woman’s face said everything.” Annika clicked her teeth together as she thought. 

“So, did the Church make a statement or anything? I mean, did they have any record of this woman?” Annika leaned forward as she asked, resting her elbows on her knees. Lennart leaned back in his chair, obviously trying to remember. 

“I remember someone from the Church, a public relations kind of person...” He waved his hand vaguely in the air. “said they didn’t know who she was and they would comply with the police and show proof that they had no connection with this woman or some flim-flam like that.” He shook his head again. “It was her eyes though, I can still see them in my mind now. She wasn’t lying.” Lennart and Annika sat in silence for some time. Both of them staring at the desk between them. The sound of the clock on the wall ticking away was filling up the space between. Finally, Lennart drew in a sharp breath. 

“They didn’t...” He gestured to Annika while not looking at her. “They didn’t try anything, right?” Annika laughed, running a hand through her blonde hair and to the back of her neck. 

“Nah, they were weird, yeah. But they didn’t try anything. He just looked at the maps and asked me some questions about them.” She shrugged. “He may have offered me a job, though.” she said quietly, almost a whisper. 

“What?” Lennart’s voice was firm, and he stared at her from across his desk. 

“He asked me if I was ‘invested’ in this job. I think that’s why he gave me the card.” She leaned forward in her seat, fishing it out of her back pocket. “I think if I call, he’ll offer me a job. But it’s just like, I think it’s just because of the maps, Lennart. I mean, a guy with a collection like that isn’t going to be able to manage that on his own, right?”

“Do not call that number, Annika. I’m very serious. Just throw it away.” Lennart’s voice was harder than she’d ever heard it before. He sounded like her father now. She furrowed her brow, her eyes looking at the card, locked onto its beautiful script. She found herself wondering if the foil engraving was real gold or not. 

“I mean, I might call. Just to see what they offer. But when they called earlier, you seemed kind of weirded out then. Did you know it was them or what?” She pushed the card back into her pocket as she spoke, hoping to deter Lennart from the job issue. He tapped his knuckles on his desk several times before speaking. 

“I had my suspicions. They worried me on the phone. The person who called: their voice was raspy and odd. It made me uncomfortable just to listen to it. Like someone was grating sandpaper against my eardrum.” He shook his head, making a grimacing face as he did so. He stood up and began to pace the small office, his hands in his pockets, “You know when you get that feeling like something is wrong?” he asked, and Annika shook her head. She did indeed know that feeling and knew it well. Lennart continued, “That hair raising feeling was what it was like speaking to whoever that person was on the phone. It felt weird, unnatural. They sounded utterly exhausted, but they were completely capable and able. It was bizarre.” He shook his head again as he paced the room. “I didn’t want to alarm you. I tried to hide the fact that I was terrified.” He shook his head, laughing at himself under his breath. Annika stood up and walked over to him, her hands in her front pockets. 

“Lennart, I totally appreciate it, I really do.” She smiled at him. “But the last thing I think that’s going on, is that this guy is a cult leader or in a cult. Worst case scenario, that woman you saw on the television? She was abducted by some loony bin pretending to be associated with this Church. The police would have found something, you know? But they didn’t.” She shrugged and gave him a comforting smile. Lennart nodded his head slowly and solemnly, finally letting out a breath he’d been holding in. 

“I suppose you’re right.” He patted her on the shoulder and walked back to his chair, flopping down into it. Annika watched him for a minute, watching the way he drummed his fingers on the armrests of his office chair. She pushed her hands back into her pockets.

“Well, it’s about that time, so I’m going to head home. You alright here by yourself?” she asked as she moved towards the door. But Lennart simply nodded his head. 

“Yes, I’m alright. But listen, Annika,” he said as she began to open the door. She turned back to him. “Just be careful, okay?” She nodded her head, her blonde hair swinging with the motion. She saluted him in the same joking manner she always had. He smiled at her as she turned around to grab her things from behind the main desk. She put her jacket on and grabbed her backpack, pulling her hair back into a tight bun with a hair tie. She waved to Lennart again through the glass windows of his office as she turned to the front door and unlocked it. She pulled it open and stepped through it, shutting it behind her and locking it again quickly. She pushed the keys down into her pockets as she started her walk home. She walked under traffic lights and passed homes, some with their lights on, some off. Cars went whizzing by here and there. 

She was half way home when she stopped at a bench by a street crossing and took off her backpack. She unzipped the top pocket and pulled out her phone, and with her other hand, she reached for the card in her back pocket. She stared at the numbers on the card for several long seconds, cars driving by behind her, people passing by on the other side. She ran her thumb across the lettering on the card, the gold foil embossing shining in the city lights that hung all around her in the sky. She turned her phone on with a flick of her thumb and began to dial the numbers off the card. The phone rang and rang and rang, and as she put her backpack on again, she began to debate hanging up—especially since no one was answering. Maybe they didn’t have a voice mail. As she pulled the phone away from her ear, figuring it was fate, a voice answered on the line: “Emeritus Church.” 

It was that same grating, gravely voice that Lennart had told her about earlier, and he wasn’t wrong: it was unnatural. 


	2. Strange Happenings

_ Sweden _

_ October 6th, 2016 _

_ 3:13 PM _

Annika was shoving her keys into her pockets haphazardly. She walked quickly around her apartment in a flurry, muttering to herself to see if she forgot anything. As she checked her bag one more time for all her required items, she heard the door unlock and her roommate, Siv, walked in. She was holding the mail, filing through it as she nodded to Annika. 

“Thought you’d be gone by now. Don’t you have that job to go to?” She shut the door with her left foot as she came in and plopped the stack of mail down onto the bookshelf. She put the bag she’d been carrying down onto a chair and slid out of her jacket, letting it hang carefully off the back of the same chair her bag now sat upon. 

“I mean, I am on the way?” Annika laughed, heading to the door as she dug through her backpack before putting it on. 

“Yeah but,” Siv looked at the clock, “it’s like 3:30? The day is gone.” Annika stopped at the door, sliding her backpack onto her shoulders and adjusting it. She looked at the floor, gesturing to Siv with her cell phone clutched in one hand. 

“You know, it’s really weird? When they called to arrange this, they said that the Cardinal guy? His hours start at like 4:30 PM. Is that weird?” She tucked her phone into her pocket, waiting for a response. Siv just shrugged, tilting her head this way and that. 

“Well, does he work at night for a reason? It’s just a temp job for you, right? You don’t have to work at night, do you?” Siv leaned against the wall by the entrance to the kitchen. Annika shook her head.

“No, I just have to be there at 4:30. I have to catch a cab now. I hope they don’t ask me to work nights,” she grimaced. “That’d really fuck with my schedule at the archive.” Siv furrowed her brow as she pulled away from the wall she’d been leaning on. 

“Oh, I misunderstood, I thought you took this new job entirely. I didn’t know you were working two!” She crossed her arms in front of her chest, a smile on her face. 

“No, no,” Annika said quickly, “the new job is a temporary position, only like three days a week to start? So I didn’t want to quit the archive job outright, so I told my boss—” Siv cut her off with her laughter. 

“Lennart! I love him. He’s so bizarre.” She laughed, Annika rolled her eyes, a smile on her face. 

“Anyway! I told Lennart what was going on and what they offered me. I mean, for only three days a week, it’s still a lot of pay, so I really want to do it.” She shrugged, swinging the door in her hand back and forth gently. Siv nodded.

“Well, you better get going then. You don’t want to be late!” She laughed again. “What time will you be home, by the way?” Annika looked up at the ceiling, counting in her head. 

“Oh, I don’t know. I figured maybe around 8?” She said, her face a questioning grimace. She chuckled; secretly, she was completely unsure of the time she’d be home. 

“Go! You’re going to be late for your meeting with the cultists!” Siv yelled as she turned away into the kitchen. Annika laughed and pulled the door shut behind her as she stepped through. She ran down the stairs, as she usually did. She pushed open the main door to her apartment building and stepped out onto the sidewalk. There wasn’t much foot traffic, so getting a cab was easy. She leaned forward across the front console and showed the driver the address. He nodded and mentioned he knew exactly where that was. Annika smiled and thanked him, pulling out her phone while she waited for the cab to fight city traffic until they arrived at their destination. 

Soon, the city began to dwindle far behind. The roads went from being heavily populated with both traffic and pedestrians crossing, overshadowed by buildings and traffic lights, to small, windy country roads where more trees hung over the road then not. They were far out in the country, small towns whizzing by outside the window—though Annika wasn’t taking any notice. She was staring down at her phone. Eventually, the cab began to slow, turning left and then right, then right once more, into the parking lot of a train station. The cab driver pulled up to the curb of the entryway. He stopped the car and parked it. 

“Here we are.” He gestured to the meter. Annika looked up, squinting, confused. 

“This is a train station?” She said with trepidation. The cab driver made a face in the rear view mirror and glanced at the piece of paper she’d given him earlier. 

“Yeah,” he said slowly, holding up the paper in his hand, “but this is the address you gave me. This is where you wanted to go.” He stared at her in the mirror. She saw there were a few cars in the parking lot, but she knew this outlying station. It was running, just infrequently. _ Worst case scenario, I can take the train back to the city, _ she thought to herself as she dug in her wallet for her card. She paid the cab driver, who was vaguely more than irritated, and thanked him. He did not respond in kind; she didn’t tip him, after all. Watching the cab speed off back to the city, Annika was left there on the platform, the ticket booth behind her occupied by a young man who was reading something on his phone, ignoring her. The parking lot was somewhat empty. There were cars around, but several of them looked almost abandoned, due to the large amount of leaves piled on them. They couldn’t have been driven here within the week. She stood there with her backpack on and waited. She sat down on the curb and dithered on her phone for a while, looking up every so often. Finally, she noticed the time: it was 3:56 PM, and she was getting increasingly anxious. She turned around once more and looked at the young man working in the ticket booth: he was gone. She sighed and continued to look at her phone, becoming increasingly worried as the sun began to dip down in the sky. She checked the times on the board, if she missed the last point to purchase a train ticket home, she’d be stuck in that parking lot all night. The idea of that filled her with dread. 

She stood up, dusting her pants off as she did so. She was intent on purchasing a ticket home and angry at the whole situation, feeling as though she’d wasted her time and her efforts in every way. As she mulled over her annoyance at having to pay a cab to come all the way out here, she began walking towards the ticket booth. Her back was turned to the parking lot as a black vehicle pulled in. It rounded the entire lot, going the whole way around until it pulled up directly to the curb of the train depot entryway. Annika stood at the ticketbooth, waiting for the teller to return when she heard the gentle _ squeal _ of brakes and turned around to the sight of a long, sleek, black Mercedes limousine with deeply tinted windows. The passenger side door opened and out stepped a man wearing that same silver mask as the ones in the archive a week ago. She stared at him for a moment. He wasn’t dressed the same. He had on a more form fitting all black outfit, no hood over his masked face, and his hands were exposed. His eyes were clearly seen through the slits in his mask; they were bright blue. He shut the car door behind him with a resounding _ thud _ and began to walk towards her. He did not bow, but simply gestured to her with one hand and spoke in a deep, rumbling voice that seemed to make even the fallen leaves on the ground around her disperse. 

“Annika Nyström?” She turned back around as the man spoke and looked at the ticket booth, which was still empty. The parking lot was empty as well, and now she suddenly found herself thinking back to what Lennart had said:_ ‘They have a very questionable presence...many people avoid them.’ _ She could hear his voice in her head, echoing, and for a split second, the urge to say “no” was just on the tip of her tongue, but she was betrayed. 

“Yes,” Her voice came to her quickly, but it was warbled and small. “I’m Annika Nyström. Are you from the Emeritus Church?” She asked quickly, a piece of her hoping to buy some time until the young man from the ticket booth returned, or for someone to walk past or a train to come by—anything to disrupt the strange feeling she had in her gut. The man in front of her simply inclined his head and gestured with one hand towards the waiting vehicle. He walked to the back of the limousine and opened the door, holding it ajar as he stood behind it. She saw that the inside of the vehicle was empty. The man with the mask stood by the open car door and waited, still as stone as his gaze pierced straight through her. She drew in a breath as she walked towards the open door of the vehicle and slipped inside, sliding along the beautifully maintained leather seat. Before she was even all the way in, the door slammed shut behind her and locked. The man outside the vehicle got into the passenger seat in the front, and as he shut his door, he indicated to the driver with a simple gesture. The driver pulled the vehicle out of park and the huge engine revved, carrying the oversized vehicle away down the road. Annika took her backpack off and laid it at her feet. The interior of the vehicle was impressive. She’d never been inside one though; she’d only seen one or two around the city in her entire life. The wood inlay in the interior was beautiful, and the black leather seats were more comfortable than most chairs she’d sat in. She found her seat belt and buckled it, sitting next to the window, watching the countryside go by. She tucked a piece of errant hair behind her ear and glanced at her phone as she did so, noticing how her signal bars were getting lower and lower as the car moved further and further out into the countryside. 

“Could either of you tell me where we’re going?” She asked, almost shouting. The driver said nothing. The man in the passenger seat didn’t even turn around; he simply reached up and hit a button on the ceiling of the front panel, closing the divider between them and her. Annika’s stomach dropped. “Thanks, super helpful and not anxiety provoking at all,” she whispered sarcastically to herself, shaking her head as she did so. The countryside whipped by, and the road went from paved with lines to a semi-paved road with no lines—which soon evolved into a poorly-paved road with only enough room for one vehicle at a time. She checked her phone once more and noticed that she had no data at all and surely, only one bar of cell service. _ Only enough for an emergency call, _ she thought worryingly. She looked up at the tinted glass screen between herself and the two people in the front of the vehicle. Her eyes skittered down to the door handle, and she pulled it, a large piece of her hoping it would give the distinct _ popping _ sound that indicated it was unlocked. But it did no such thing: the child lock was obviously on, and she was indeed trapped in the backseat of a vehicle gently making its way down a now-gravel road, which was hedged in on both sides by trees and shrubs. 

She was becoming increasingly nervous and heightened. She was clutching her phone tightly and wondering if she should call the police, but just as that thought ran through her mind, the vehicle rounded a corner. In front of her suddenly was a huge, massive, and expansive stone compound. The vehicle pulled around the curved driveway and came to a gentle stop in front of two large double wooden doors, which were covered in beautiful, ornate carvings. Though, of what, she couldn’t tell. The driver put the vehicle into park as the other man opened his door and slammed it shut, coming down to her door and opening it. This time, the door popped open with a pleasant sound, and he held his arm out, indicating for her to exit the vehicle. 

“Is this the Emeritus Church?” She asked hurriedly as she took off her seat belt and put her backpack on, watching the man closely. He squinted at her, as though he were the suspicious one. 

“Annika Nyström, please exit the vehicle. I am instructed to escort you to the Cardinal.” His voice was that same deep, reverberating sound that seemed to shake even the powerful vehicle she sat in. She nodded her head silently and quickly scooted out of the back of the vehicle. Once outside, the man shut the car door, and the vehicle pulled away almost silently, its tires crunching down on the gravel driveway. The man in the mask walked ahead of her, and she followed him closely as she reached into her pocket to pull out her phone. The time was 4:32 PM, and she tucked her phone back into her pocket, following behind this strange masked man at a close distance. 

She noticed that there were indeed people milling about and walking here and there. _ They look like nuns_, she thought to herself as a group of women in black habits walked by. The masked man led her up some stairs and down a long corridor, only to lead her up another set of stairs that opened up to a hallway that saw no outside light. It was simply stone walls on both sides and candles burning in sconces. She furrowed her brow, not for the last time, wondering why in the world they would use candles and not electricity. At the end of the hallway was an old wooden door. The man in the mask knocked on it three times, the sound reverberated against the stone, but that was all the sound that she could hear. Suddenly, the door opened and a man in slacks and a white button down shirt appeared. He looked very tired, as though he would fall over at any minute.

“Annika Nyström is here.” The masked man said as he turned and walked past Annika, down the hallway in the direction which they had come. She turned to yell after him. 

“Thank you!” The masked man said nothing and simply continued to walk away. She pressed her lips together to form a smile, forced though it was, as she turned to this new person in front of her. He seemed to stare through her. 

“The Cardinal will be ready to see you soon.” His voice was monotone and plain as he stepped away from the open door, allowing her to follow him inside the room. She shut the door quietly behind her, and as she walked into the room, she saw that it was much tighter and smaller than she had imagined. Everywhere she looked were maps hung up on the walls, some in piles on top of piles on shelves, books everywhere, and everything in ridiculous amounts of disarray. The man in front of her gestured for her to sit on a nearby couch. She nodded her thanks and moved some pieces of paper and maps off of it before sitting. 

“I wanted to ask someone,” she said abruptly, and the man who had showed her into the room turned around slowly to face her. His eyes seemed empty as she spoke. “Is there any reason the Cardinals hours start at 4:30 PM? It’s just a little awkward for my schedule, and I was wondering if there’s any way I can change that. Or if we can shift some things around?” As she spoke, she gestured with her hands, trying to keep a smile on her face the whole time; making every attempt at politeness. But this man in front of her was cold. As a matter of fact, they all had been: cold and detached. He simply stared at her, until he finally spoke, his voice still full of that same lifeless monotone. 

“The Cardinal will be ready to see you soon.” He turned away from her and headed towards the door, opening it and allowing it to fall shut behind him. She sat there on the couch, her hands tucked under her thighs, her feet tapping idly on the beautiful wooden floors. She looked up and noticed that the room was more than one story; the second story was surrounded by a bannister and covered with shelves, which were covered with still more scrolls and books everywhere. As she stared up at it, she heard a door open and shut somewhere, her eyes flicking down to the main door through which she had entered, but there was no one there. 

“Hello?” She called out loudly, her voice echoing. No one answered. Suddenly, she had the distinct feeling she was being watched or scrutinized under a lens. She pulled her phone out and checked the time once more: 4:47 PM. He was late. She tucked her phone back into her pocket, her hands tapping nervously on her thighs. 

“Welcome, Annika Nyström,” a voice very close to her left said. 

“Jesus!” She yelled, her hand going to her chest, her heart pounding away. “You startled me! Good God, I didn’t think anyone else was here! I said ‘hello’ but no one answered.” She tried to catch her breath. The Cardinal blinked at her several times, a small, delighted smirk on his face.

“I apologize,” he bowed, “I came in from another door.” He pointed upwards and Annika’s vision followed his hand, her eyes searching in the dark above her, but he continued. “I see that you’ve made it adequately.” She nodded slowly, still wondering what other door he could have come in through. 

“Yeah, adequately, totally. I have to say though, your limo drivers are kind of creepy.” She stood up, allowing the straps of her backpack to fall off and her bag to remain on the couch she’d been sitting on. The Cardinal nodded his head absently. 

“However so?” He asked, his voice almost a whisper. She huffed out a laugh. 

“I mean, they didn’t really talk to me? Didn’t tell me where we were going. They were just...weird. Off putting.” She shrugged and tucked her hands into the back pockets of her pants. 

“...‘Off putting,’” He repeated, nodding as though this were a new term to him. His mismatched eyes simply stared at her; his mouth was a thin line on his face. 

“Yeah, it was just strange, I’ve never encountered that.” She sighed as she clapped her hands together. “So, who was the man who saw me in? Will we be working together?” The Cardinal shook his head. 

“Oh no, you are his replacement. You will take up where he left off.” Every word the Cardinal said was slow, as though he was cherry picking them in his mind. Annika nodded.

“Oh, okay! I didn’t know that, I’m sorry! I thought we were going to work together. It’s cool though. I’m sure I’ll be enough for...” She paused and looked around at the mess all over the room. “All of this.” She nodded absently, licking her bottom lip. The Cardinal looked out at the room as well, as though he were, for the first time, taking it in. He did not say a word. Annika finally broke the silence. “So, where did he leave off exactly?” She began to walk over to a shelf and started to pick up pieces of paper here and there. Some of them were very old and one of them was beginning to crumble in her hands. She quickly shoved it back onto the shelf, hoping the Cardinal didn’t notice. As she turned around to face him though, he was on the other side of the room, opening a large tome that was on a desk. 

“He was keeping everything in here,” the Cardinal said, once more his voice gentle and soothing, and Annika found herself feeling tired when he spoke. “All the documents in this room are recorded in this. All the maps and books, everything is in this.” He laid a gloved hand on the exterior of voluminous record keeper. She yawned, covering her mouth with her hand quickly. She nodded as he spoke. 

“Do you not have a database?” She asked quickly. He looked up at her, and for the first time his face changed: he looked confused. 

“Database?” He asked, allowing the cover of the tome he was holding to close gently. 

“Yeah, you know like, on a server computer system. Like—” she used her hands to make a square in the air. “You keep all your records online or on a private server you can keep here in the Church? And then when you want to access it to see what you’ve got, you can just log on and look through the online database catalog.” 

“We don’t have that,” he said, “But I am curious as to how that works. I take it you know how that works, Annika Nyström?” She nodded, blinking several times as she did so. She would be lying if she said she didn’t love having everything at the archive online, on the cloud server. 

“Oh yeah! Absolutely, I know! I work with it all the time in the archive, you know, where we met,” she said quickly, but the Cardinal simply nodded and stared at her as she continued. “If you want, I can show you how to set it up based on the same system we used. I’m sure Lennart, my other boss,” she laughed, but the Cardinal only smiled gently, “would totally be willing to share the system—like the set up and how we use it and who you all need to call to have it installed. But I can totally plug everything in and put all the info into it for you.” She fell silent, tucking her hands into her pockets again. She kept a smile forced onto her face, waiting. The Cardinal stood there staring at her for a moment. Then his gaze went between the tome on the desk and Annika standing before him. His vision flicked between the two for some time; much longer than what was normal. 

“I think, perhaps, that would be acceptable.” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, but it looked arduous for him, as though this was the first time he’d smiled in a long time. Annika nodded her head quickly, trying to move the conversation along. 

“Yeah, awesome, yeah. We can try to get a system set up for you all, because honestly, this is a lot of information you obviously have here.” She held her hands out and looked upwards at the room, gesturing to the wealth of knowledge around her. “This is just a lot to keep cataloged on paper, you know? You can easily keep this in storage filing or on a server system.” She nodded, her hands resting on her hips as she thought it all out. The Cardinal hummed in, what Annika assumed, was agreement. “I don’t know where we could put it though. We’d have to make room. Maybe move that cabinet over there? Can we move that somewhere else? I mean, ultimately, it’s up to you, obviously.” She laughed as she moved over to the cabinet. She turned around to ask him a question, but he was right behind her. 

“It’s no offense or anything, but you shouldn’t sneak up on people like that, you know?” She gave a hollow laugh, running her hand along the back of her neck as she spoke. He tilted his head to the left, watching her very closely, his eyes narrowing. 

“Is it...off putting?” He asked, a small smile on his face again; as though he were testing the waters of smiling one more time. She couldn’t stop herself from smiling at that and chuckled lightly. 

“Yeah, you could say that, it’s a little off putting. You’re kind of a strange guy, Cardinal, I’m not going to lie to you.” She laughed, crossing her arms over her chest as she stood in front of the cabinet. He nodded silently as he stared at her, his mismatched eyes locking onto her blue ones. 

“You are also a strange creature, Annika Nyström. I, too, would be lying if I said anything else.” He did not smile, but Annika gave a genuine laugh, which the Cardinal once more tilted his head at: as though she were a specimen of some kind. The rest of the day passed by quickly, and they discussed some plans for whom she would contact and how and when. As she left, standing in the main hall of that beautifully large stone building, she stuck her hand out to him once more. He looked down at it. 

“Oh, right, you don’t shake, that’s my fault. Sorry, I forgot.” She retracted her hand, but the Cardinal held up his index finger as he pulled his gloves from his pockets. He put them on and stuck his right hand towards her; the look on his face was resolute, as though this was something he was trying for the first time. She flashed a grin at him and grasped his gloved hand, shaking it briskly once. She nodded to him. “I’ll see you later, Cardinal. Next time, I’ll bring the plans for the server system.” She pointed to him, her finger bouncing in the air a couple times before she turned to leave, the limousine waiting to take her back to the city. 

As the car drove off, the Cardinal watched it disappear into the darkness. His gloved hands clasped behind his back tightly. His unblinking mismatched eyes watching the brake lights of the limousine fading into the night, “A curious creature indeed.” He whispered to himself. 


	3. Inquiries and Answers

_ Sweden _

_ October 10th, 2016 _

_ 2:17 PM _

It was cooler outside than she had expected. There were leaves on the ground, and she went out of her way to step on the ones that looked crunchy. She did this the entire way to the train station. Upon arriving, she quickly went to the teller and purchased a ticket to the station where she was to meet the limousine, then she went down to the platform and waited. The train arrived readily enough and was right on time. She boarded it and sat her bag on the seat next to her, putting on her headphones with haste. She held her phone in her lap and texted her roommate as the train sped through the city and out into the countryside, picking up their conversation where they had left off earlier that day: 

_ [Annika]: You know, it was weird, it was like he didn’t understand a word of what I was saying _

_ [Siv]: They must live a really insular life, tbh. How can he not know about a server or how that would help him? _

_ [Annika]: Idk, but he really didn’t know, Siv! It’s not like he was pulling my leg or anything, you know? He genuinely did not know what I was talking about. _

_ [Siv]: Idk, it’s weird, I keep thinking about how you said this guy was kind of strange? How you mentioned that he just kind of magically appeared in the room after startling you? _

_ [Annika]: Right, what about it though? I mean I figured he was just quiet when he came in. _

_ [Siv]: Idk, I keep getting this crazy feeling like maybe he didn’t startle _ ** _you_**_, Annika. Maybe you noticing him, startled _ ** _him_ ** _ . You said he seemed to be watching you a lot and that at one point when you turned around he was right behind you? That’s really weird and kind of unsettling. It’s like he was waiting for you to turn your back. :\ _

Annika stared at her phone screen for a moment, thinking about what her roommate was saying; the implications of that. She stared out the window for a moment before replying, watching the way the city center turned into trees and rolling green hills. She sighed, shaking her head as she replied on her phone. 

_ [Annika]: No, you’re right. It was weird. I kept trying to tell myself it wasn’t? That he was just...odd. But, I couldn’t shake this feeling like I was being watched before he showed up? It was really unnerving. _

_ [Siv]: Do you think you should go back? Maybe you should just call and be like, ‘look, I can’t do this’ and then get off at the next station, you know? _

_ [Annika]: No, I don’t think he’s going to hurt me or anything. That feeling of danger, you know, that one that follows you around? By the time I went to leave that feeling was gone. He even shook my hand. He didn’t even do that in the archive! I mean, he put his gloves on to do it, but he did it and he smiled at me. It wasn’t a weird smile either like the others had been either, it was natural, normal even, haha. _

_ [Siv]: If you really think it’s okay, I’ll trust your judgement on this. But, please, be careful. If anything too weird happens, you definitely shouldn’t go back. Call me if you have any problems, okay? I can come get you. _

_ [Annika]: Don’t worry, really, if it gets too much I’ll pull out. But as of now, when I was leaving yesterday, I didn’t feel like I was in any danger. It was just a weird thing to have happen I guess. I think he’s really just an eccentric dude who has zero social skills, haha. But yeah, don’t worry, if I think I’m getting abducted by cultists I’ll definitely give you a ring. _

_ [Siv]: Yeah definitely don’t want that to happen, lol. _

Annika flicked away from the conversation on her phone and began to pick new music. She scrolled through some news articles, then her social media, which was scant. She tried not to think about what Siv had said. She tried not to think about the argument they’d had over the weekend about the eerie limousine ride. She gritted her teeth, wondering if it was worth it to bring up the fact that there was, indeed, a closer train station to the Church. Though, admittedly, she was afraid to mention this to the men who picked her up. _ Perhaps_, she thought, _ better to mention it to the Cardinal himself_. She nodded her head in agreement at her own thought. After all, why waste all those resources if she can simply catch a train to a station within walking distance to the Church?

The train ride didn’t take too terribly long, and soon she found herself outside of the city and quickly approaching the station where she had been the week prior. She took off her headphones and packed them away in her backpack. She pushed her phone into her pocket as she stood up, holding on to the rail. As the train glided to a stop, she slipped her jacket on and then her backpack over top. She stepped out and onto the platform. Outside was a bit chillier, and she was, once again, glad she had brought her jacket. She walked out to the entryway and the parking lot; waiting. Looking around, she noticed the same cars were covered in leaves and found herself wondering if they were simply abandoned there. The teller wasn’t the same young man as before, though. It was an older woman reading a book and paying no attention to Annika whatsoever. She stood on the edge of the curb with her phone in her hand, waiting for the promised limousine. 

Luckily, she didn’t have long to wait. Soon, through the far trees, she could make out a black blur, and into the parking lot pulled the same long sleek, black Mercedes. It pulled its way around the whole lot, probably not able to make that first tight turn, and then pulled itself up along the curb. She didn’t try the door handle, but instead, waited for the masked man to jump out of the passenger side door and open the back seat for her. She nodded her silent thanks and simply crawled inside, laying her bag at her feet as the masked man shut the door behind her. She buckled her seat belt and said nothing, simply waiting to arrive at their destination. This time, she did not bother to ask questions. 

She kept looking at the bars on her phone, watching them dwindle the further out they went into the countryside. She watched through the front windshield as the landscape changed from a small town to forests and gravel roads. She watched the way that huge stone complex loomed up out of the Earth, seemingly, out of nowhere. Arriving was the same as before: the car door was opened, and she was escorted through the main entryway, up several staircases, and then to the same dark, crowded room. This time she did not turn around to thank the masked man who walked her there, realizing now that it was a futile effort. She said nothing as the door behind her closed and his footsteps faded down the hall. 

She looked around the cramped room. Everywhere there was something. She saw the same couch she’d sat on before and walked over to it, placing her bag down on it. She unzipped it and pulled out her laptop and some materials about servers. She grabbed her phone again and looked at the screen. “I should have enough data to at least tether my laptop to my phone,” she said quietly to herself. 

“Tether?” The Cardinals voice came from just behind her, and it was everything Annika could do not to screech. She turned around quickly and nodded before speaking. 

“Y-yeah,” she said slowly, “tethering. Its how I can connect my laptop to the internet, since you all don’t have internet here.” She shook her phone back and forth slightly as she spoke, trying to keep the forced smile on her face. 

“As you wish.” He nodded and tucked his hands into the pockets of his cassock. “My previous assistant informed me that you had inquired about the hours?” Annika put her phone back into her pocket quickly, nodding. 

“Oh, yeah! I was just curious, if there was a reason for that or if we can shift them around a little bit? If there was any flexibility at all.” As she spoke, her words began to dwindle, her voice becoming a soft whisper. The Cardinal did not speak, his eyes flickered across her face for a moment as he turned his back to her and began to walk around the desk at the center of the room. 

“The hours are set for a reason.” His voice was plain and to the point, and Annika simply nodded, smiling. 

“It’s alright,” she laughed, “I was just curious if there was any flexibility at all. It’s not a big deal.” She tucked her hands into her pockets. The Cardinal nodded his head. The room descended into a stiff silence, and Annika finally turned around and picked her laptop up, bringing it over to the desk. She looked up at the Cardinal and gestured to some of the books and papers on his desk; she began to move them into piles, but he said nothing, his gaze flicking between the laptop and her hands as they worked quickly to move things here and there. 

“So, I brought this with me, and I figured I could show you the options for servers and things.” As she spoke, she turned around to her backpack and grabbed the paperwork she’d brought with her. “This is the company the archive uses. I figured you would want to know how we organized things and kept our servers running. It seems like you have your own miniature archive here as well.” She laughed as she handed him the paperwork. He took it from her without saying anything. Instead, he flipped the pamphlet open and began to scan through it quickly. He squinted at it, and Annika watched him, his vision skittering over the page. He looked up at her with a furrowed brow. 

“I do not understand,” he said quietly. His eyes seemed to bore through her. “But, if you do, I don’t object to you being able to organize this,” he gestured around him with a gloved hand, “collection.” Annika nodded silently. 

“Yeah, I mean, I can assess everything for you and tell you how much there is and what really needs to be done. But in the end, you have to decide how much money you want to spend on it, and you have to decide how you want it to be set up. But, I can assess everything and then contact these people,” she pointed to the pamphlet he was still holding, “and we can arrange for someone to come out and tell you how it works and how they’ll install it.” He nodded his head several times before laying the pamphlet down onto the desk. His fingers lingered over it for a moment, arched above the paper. He looked up at her, his eyes sharp and bright in the dimly lit room.

“I apologize.” He gestured to the candles in their sconces. “It is much darker in here than you are probably accustomed to. I shall order more lights for you to work by as you begin to assess my collection.” Annika nodded.

“Oh yeah, that’d be great! It is, admittedly, a little hard to see.” She laughed, her hands tucked into her pockets. 

“What are the usual times of operation for a company such as this?” The Cardinal tapped his finger on the pamphlet, and the leather of his glove stuck to the shiny paper for a second. Annika shrugged.

“I imagine the usual times, so they’re probably available from 8 AM to 5 PM. Oh! Will that be a problem? I mean, with your hours and everything starting at 4:30...” She ran an errant hand over the back of her neck as her face pulled into an uncomfortable grimace; a piece of her hoped she hadn’t touched on a sensitive subject as the man in front of her raised an eyebrow. He was very still for a moment before speaking. 

“If they can arrive at exactly 4:30, it will work.” He gave one sure nod of his head, his eyes still unblinkingly staring at her. 

“Well, I can’t guarantee that, but I can at least try and impress upon them the importance of the time.” She bit her bottom lip. “I mean, that said, I don’t want to be rude, but,” she gave a nervous laugh, “is there a reason for those times? I mean, is it just your schedule? Are you asleep? Is there some other reason that they can’t be moved around a little bit? I thought maybe you worked at night but-” He cut her off by holding his hand up; idly, she noticed the palm of his glove had a zipper on it, something she’d not seen, well, ever really. She stopped speaking immediately, though, and folded her arms across her chest. He was quiet; his eyes scanning the room for a moment before he spoke. 

“I have a medical condition.” His voice was low and quiet, his eyes narrowing as he spoke. “I am very sensitive to sunlight, and I need a lot of sleep due to my metabolism. If this company needs a reason, you are free to cite to this condition. It is,” he cleared his throat before continuing, “exceedingly rare.” He knitted his fingers together, watching her closely. She licked her bottom lip as she felt her face flush red. 

“Oh no, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to make you reveal anything too personal about yourself. That was, in hindsight, very rude of me.” She shrunk back slightly, putting her hands back into her pockets, feeling very foolish and as though she’d discovered something she wasn’t supposed to know. The Cardinal stood in front of her for a moment, perfectly still, his hands still knitted together and his eyes still watching her closely. He paused for a moment, his mouth hanging open slightly before he spoke. 

“It is without flaw.” His mouth curved into the hint of a smile. Annika squinted at him slightly at the strange phrase, but he continued. “In hindsight, I probably should have disclosed this information in the beginning. Forgive me.” He gave her a slight bow, his gloved hand over his chest as he did so. 

“It’s alright!” she said quickly, waving her hands in front of her. “It’s a personal thing, and you totally didn’t have to tell me at all if you didn’t want to. I shouldn’t have pried.” His gaze on her seemed to tighten, for only a moment before he gave a simple nod of his head and turned to a shelf full of books, papers, scrolls, and other odds and ends. 

“I have not had someone working for me before who was actually useful.” His voice was soft as he spoke, his back still turned to her as he gazed up at the shelves that lined the walls. “Up until now it was mostly people who were only here for the monetary gains of the situation. Not that you aren’t, but they were _ only _ here for that, it seemed.” Annika looked at the floor, knowing full well that she, too, was truly only here for that; though, bursting this man’s bubble now seemed to be a bad plan. She bit her bottom lip again and watched his back while he walked along the length of the shelves, his gloved hand grazing the spines of several tomes. He pulled his hands away briefly, looking at the dust on his black leather gloves before turning back to her. 

“Well, thank you, for...” She paused for a moment. “...for thinking I’m useful.” She laughed, feeling her cheeks turn pink. He raised an eyebrow, squinting at her. 

“Does your....current employer...not find you useful?” he asked. Annika shrugged. 

“He does, he just...he means well, but Lennart kind of treats me like I’m his kid sometimes, and it’s a little annoying.” She shrugged, huffing out a laugh as she ran a hand through her blonde hair, trying to tuck it back behind her ear once more—a nervous force of habit. The man in front of her nodded. 

“Yes, I understand that. I, too, once had someone who treated me like I was their child. It is a,” he tilted his head back and forth as he thought, “a nice and comforting thing for a while, but eventually it becomes..._ stifling_.” His words were small and soft, and his eyes seemed to be focused on something far off in the distance, though there was nothing behind Annika aside from a wall covered in more shelves and books. She nodded silently. 

“So, not to change the subject, but would you like me to handle this server situation?” She gestured to the pamphlet he’d left on his desk. “I can deal with the technician and all of that. And then when you get up, I can just give you a run down of what they said, and you can make the decision from there, if you’d like?” She pushed her hands into her pockets again. He sighed and nodded slowly. 

“I think that would be best.” He looked her dead in the eyes for a moment that lasted just a fraction too long but was not uncomfortable. “You know far more about this subject than I ever could come to learn about it or comprehend by reading...this.” He gestured dismissively to the pamphlet. Annika couldn’t help herself and laughed. The Cardinal raised an eyebrow at her, and she tried to stifle her laughter as much as she could.

“I’m so sorry, it’s just...when you talk it’s like you’re from a history book, and I’ve just never met anyone quite like you before. I’m not laughing _ at _ you, really, I promise.” She put her hands up defensively, and the man in front of her gave the barest of smiles. 

“Don’t worry,” His voice was a soft whisper again. “I know you’re not. I know that I speak...in a manner in which people are not accustomed to, and for that, please forgive me.” He gave a stiff bow.

“You don’t have to bow to me, it’s alright. I get it. I figured you’re not from here, so I’m sure there’s some customs and things you’re not used to. It’s cool.” She couldn’t help the smile that crept across her features. He nodded his head slowly. 

“I am indeed not from here; however, that said, I have some things I must attend to, Annika Nyström, so I shall leave this,” he glanced at the pamphlet about the servers on his desk, “strictly to you. Please let me know what the company says. But now it is time for me to begin my evening tasks. I shall return if you need me.” Before Annika could say anything, he disappeared through the door and out into the hallway. She let out a breath she’d been holding, her eyes scanning the room around her. She bit her bottom lip as she glanced at the pamphlet and then to her laptop.

“Guess I have to catalog everything and then decide how much stuff is here. Then I can call these guys; see what they can do.” She reached out to the pamphlet and began to leaf through it. “I’ve never done this before though. Lennart was in charge of this. Should I call him?” she whispered to herself as she thought, her teeth gnawing into her bottom lip. She shook her head, “No, I have to do this on my own.” With that she set about working in a far corner of the room: she was armed with a pen and a notebook and her laptop, her cell phone tethered to it so she could listen to music while she worked. She hummed along to some of her more favorite songs, and she took notes on everything she found. She placed the maps in one area and the books in another and planned to go through them again the next day. 

She pulled down one old book in particular, its cover layered in dust and it was obviously bound in real leather. She wiped the grim on it away, which revealed a strange symbol. She glared at it. “I’ve seen this before,” she whispered quietly as she turned to her laptop and began to search for the strange, fang-like, faux crucifix symbol. She went through several searches before she found it. She looked at the metal medallion on the front of the book, running her fingers over it as she glanced between it and the computer screen in front of her. 

“This is an Ankh, the symbol for vampirism.” She reached to open the cover of the book, but something stopped her: a feeling of dread, as though this were something entirely off limits. She looked around the room, but she was still alone. Her fingers pulling at the edges of the cover gently, wanting to open it and see what it said inside. But a small voice in the back of her head whispered, _Don't_. She turned back to the pile of books and tucked the strange tome back in neatly with the rest, her music playing in the background the whole while she continued on with her work. She desperately tried putting that strange book out of her mind, but a voice in her head kept asking, _ why? _ While another voice kept insisting, _why would he have something like that? _And as she worked well into the evening, she found herself wondering whatever did the Cardinal mean when he said that he’d return if she needed him? She stopped working for a moment, glancing down at the pile of old maps in front of her, her hands lank at her sides, teeth digging into her bottom lip once more.

“How would he know if I needed him?” she whispered to the maps on the couch in front of her. Though, much to no one's surprise, the maps did not respond. No one did. 


	4. Histories

_ Sweden _

_ October 13th, 2016 _

_ 6:11 PM _

“So, I spoke with the technician today about the server storage,” Annika said, walking briskly over to the Cardinal, who sat behind his desk, fiddling with a pen in his hand. “They can set up the system, but first they have to come by and see how and where they can set it up. Do you want to be there for that, or should I do it? Is there someone else you’d trust for that or...?” She let her sentence trail off, her hands waving in the air as she spoke. The Cardinal stared at her, twirling the pen in his hands back and forth as he stared into her face. He shrugged. Annika raised her eyebrows at him. He cleared his throat, laying the pen down on his desk and rolling it across the wood with the palm of his gloved hand. 

“I will allow for you to handle the ‘how,’ and as for the ‘where’, well,” he shrugged, “anywhere really, I suppose.” He did not look up at her, but instead his vision stayed focused on the pen in front of him as it rolled across the wood of the desk, making a distinct clacking sound that echoed throughout the room. 

“Alright, I’ll let them know that wherever they can squeeze it is fine then.” She reached quickly for a notepad and a pen, making a note of it for future reference. Soon, she set about going back to work, collecting as many old maps as she could find and piling them on the couch. She hummed to herself as she worked. The Cardinal watched her work for a while, her back turned to him, but she would be lying if she said she hadn’t noticed. She could feel his gaze. She bit her bottom lip, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. It was in a split second decision that she decided to include him in her task, and so she picked up a stack of the old maps, frail as they were, and walked them over to his desk. With his wide-eyed gaze, he watched her intently as she laid them all down in front of him. Without saying a word, she turned around and pulled over a nearby chair. She sat in front of his desk, the maps laid out neatly on the beautiful hardwood. 

“So,” she said, moving them out in rows of three, “which ones are very important, which ones have a medium level of importance, and which ones can we donate or throw out.” She leaned back in her chair, her hands in her lap; waiting. His gaze flicked between her and the maps on his desk in front of him. He drew in a breath, and his eyes danced across the maps. 

“Can we not keep them all?” he questioned softly, laying his pen down, his gloved hands coming up and turning some of the maps around. He stared at them for a moment. Annika squinted at him. 

“Well, we can, but it’s awfully expensive to try and keep everything you have. You just have,” she looked around the room for a moment, “you just have so much stuff! I figured you would be willing to part with some things in an effort to save some money. Or, maybe you can donate things to cut down on costs of the server equipment and–” The Cardinal cut her off with a wave of his gloved hand. She stopped speaking immediately and pressed her lips together tightly. She suddenly realized how odd it was that she did that so automatically. Usually she would never do such a thing, but in front of this man she felt compelled to let him say whatever in the world he wanted. Watching him lower his hand to the desk he was seated at, she felt the creep of heat up her neck and consciously, she pressed her hand to her neck in an effort to hide the rouge. The Cardinal watched her closely, for a moment, before his gaze broke away and back to the maps. 

“These are all important. They’re all from places I’ve been or lived in. I wish to keep them all.” He looked directly up at her then, his eyes unblinking. “Money is not something to worry yourself over for this project of mine. Simply organize everything, and we can pay whatever the bill is in the end. Do not worry yourself over that.” He smiled—it wasn’t tight as the previous ones had been. It was wider and lingered longer on his features. Annika nodded her head. 

“Got it, spare no expense then.” The Cardinal chuckled lightly as she began to pile the maps back up into a stack once more. But as she did so, she noticed that one of them was of Italy, and it was very old. It seemed to have some kind of pull to it; it was an old city map, showing the routes and walls and small side walkways of a town. She turned it to the Cardinal. “What about this one?” She asked, pointing to its name in the lower left hand corner. It was written in a beautiful calligraphy script with the initials _ S.C. _ in the corner. The Cardinal stared at it blankly before taking it from her. His vision locked on it for a long time; his features plain. He sighed. 

“That is the city of Monterano. It was beautiful. I lived there for a long time.” He handed it back to her, letting go of it and allowing it to drift gently into her hands. Annika nodded as she took hold of the yellowing paper, looking at the map. 

“So, did you buy this after the fact?” she asked plainly. 

“After the fact of what?” he asked as he dug around, looking for his pen once more. He patted himself down, looking in his pockets. Annika pointed to the date on the map in the lower left hand corner by the initials. 

“It says that this was drawn in 1781. I take it you bought this at an auction or from a museum or another collector?” She looked up at him, her eyes catching his. “I mean, it’s obviously an original. Look at the discoloration.” He squinted at her, his eyes bouncing from her face to the map. He slowly nodded his head. 

“Yes, I bought it,” he said quietly, his tongue peeking out to lick his lips before he spoke again. “From another collector. Many years ago.” He forced a smile. Annika didn’t look up at him, but she nodded. Her fingers dragging gently along the surface of the map, tracing the roads and routes marked on it. Finally, she laid the map back down onto the pile with the other maps. 

“So why’d you buy it?” she asked. She turned her head and briefly glanced at him. He blinked several times. Annika filed through the rest of the maps, finally turning around to look at him again. “Oh, I’m sorry. Is this one of those personal things I shouldn’t have asked about?” Her cheeks felt hot again, and her face pulled into a grimace once more; unconsciously, she pushed her hands into her pockets. The Cardinal held his hands up, a smile on his face again; this one was not forced or pained. His eyes were gentler this time, not as critical. He cleared his throat. 

“No, no, no,” he chuckled lightly to himself. “It's fine. I bought it because I’m from there. It wasn’t that I lived there for a time; I was born there, and I grew up there. So, it has a special place.” He laid his right hand over his heart, his smile persistent. 

“Oh! So, this is like your hometown?” she asked. “Where did you live?” She placed the map back down on the desk in front of him. He laughed, leaning over it and looking at all the avenues and streets. 

“In this general area, but this map is very old, Annika.” He laughed, waving his hand at it absently. She nodded, looking at where he had pointed to. 

“Still, that’s very cool that you found a map of your hometown. Especially one so old.” She pulled the map away from his desk once more and laid it on the pile with the others. The Cardinal watched her for a moment, his brow furrowed. He opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again. The silence that passed between them went on for several minutes as Annika went and placed the pile of maps with the others, when finally the Cardinal spoke up. 

“Are you from Stockholm?” he asked gently, as though this were the hardest thing he’d ever asked; he fidgeted with his pen as he spoke. Annika turned around and looked at him, her left hand holding onto the tail end of her long blonde braid. 

“Yes, I’m from here. But it’s not special, you know? It’s just Stockholm.” She smiled, shrugging her shoulders. The Cardinal nodded. 

“You’ve lived here your whole life then?” He placed the pen down on his desk. 

“Yeah, I was born here, and I live here, and I went to school here, and I’m still  _ here _ .” She let her hands flop to her sides. The Cardinal nodded his head. 

“So, you’ve never gone anywhere else, I take it? Never seen the world or anything?” His voice was bolder now, rising above a whisper for once. His eyes remained unblinking, locked onto hers. She didn’t seem to notice though and simply nodded her head. 

“I went to visit family once in Denmark. But that was a long, long time ago.” She smirked. “I haven’t been back.” She tucked her hand back into her pockets. The Cardinal nodded and a silence fell around them once more. Then, suddenly, he stood up and moved around the room with speed and efficiency, as though he’d only just rediscovered how to move. 

“I have a map of Stockholm somewhere. It’s very old, but you may enjoy looking at it.” He began to dig through piles of paper in a cabinet, muttering to himself. She watched the way his fingers flew through the maps and paperwork as though he knew exactly what he was looking for, but he just didn’t know exactly where to look. Which was, exactly, what he was doing. Finally, he turned around and held up an old, yellowed map. It’s lines were ancient and the edges were frayed very badly. 

“Stockholm: 1887. It is not in the best condition though, and for that, I apologize.” He held it out to her, and she took it in her hands. The smile on her face went from ear to ear, and she looked at it for a good long minute, drinking it in. 

“This is great. Where’d you get this?” She looked up at him, biting her bottom lip as she waited. He shifted his weight from one foot to another. 

“A friend gave it to me. A long time ago.” He waved his hand vaguely. “But, you may have it now, if you wish.” He smiled at her, a crooked grin on his face. 

“Are you sure? I mean, this must be worth something, and if someone gave it to you then I don’t want-” He cut her off with a wave of his hand. She bit her lip again, trying to keep herself from smiling.

“Someone gave it to me, yes. But it is now mine to give to whom I wish. You are free to have it.” He gave her a slight bow and clasped his hands in front of him. She smiled and nodded her head briskly. 

“Thank you, Cardinal. This is very nice of you. You don’t have to do this.” She whispered the last part, feeling her cheeks flush red as she gazed at the map in front of her. Idly, she wondered where she would place such a thing in her home. 

“It is my pleasure and, please, you are welcome to simply call me Copia.” He gave her another small bow, and she nodded at him, smiling all the while. But, her eyes were glued to that map. After all, this was the last thing she expected to ever get out of working this temporary position. The rest of the evening went without incident. Annika and Copia simply filing through maps and paperwork, deciding what to keep and what to archive—or simply throw away. Annika enjoyed the process though, as she hadn’t worked with someone who was so adamant about sharing the history of each piece before. Furthermore, she had to admit, it was fascinating to find someone who was so very knowledgeable about absolutely everything he laid his hands on. 

By the end of the evening, they had made a sizable dent in the Cardinal’s collection of rare and odd artifacts, and Annika found herself making more bold decisions about which direction they should go in later and which areas should be tackled the next time she arrived. The Cardinal simply nodded and smiled and agreed, telling her that it was all up to her anyway; reminding her that he was merely there for veto decisions. Annika laughed, unsure of what to do with that much power over someone's personal and private collection, let alone a compliment of that size. It wasn’t long, though, before the Cardinal had to excuse himself (for what he did not say), and soon Annika was being whisked away in that same black Mercedes limousine to the train stop that she was picked up from. She thanked the masked man who opened her car door for her, and much to her surprise, he did bow to her this time when she exited the vehicle. 

She walked to the ticket booth and scanned her card, paying for her ticket back to the city center. She found herself watching the black limousine as it pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road, watching the way it dashed through the trees in the dark; simply a shiny shadow now. Soon, it disappeared into the woods, back the way it had come. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and began to text her roommate, letting her know she was heading home then. But as she did so, she could feel the strange creeping sensation that she was being watched. She turned and looked around the platform, but there was no one there but her and a man who, like her, was on his phone; he was paying her no heed as he spoke into it quietly. She could hear the train coming down the rails from the south, its soft clacking noise echoing throughout the woods and desolate parking lot. She continued to turn around and watch the entrance of the station, watching the parking lot suspiciously as she waited, but it wasn’t long before the train came to a stop in front of her. 

The soft whooshing sound of its brakes and the gentle opening of the doors indicated that it was indeed time to leave, and Annika was more than happy to do so. She hopped onto the train without a backwards glance. As the doors closed quietly and gently, the train pulling away from the station, she looked around her and saw that it was only her and the man on the phone. She sighed a deep, soft sound, pulling out her headphones and putting them on; relieved to say the least. A piece of her was desperately terrified that she would be followed onto the train by some unknown assailant. But no, it was simply her and some elderly gentleman who insisted on using speaker phone for a conversation about the apparent unknown rise in his electric bill. 

As the train pulled away from the station and its lights faded into the twilight, towards the main city center, a pair of yellow eyes peered out from the darkness of the tree line on the opposite side of the parking lot. Caught only for a brief moment in an overhead street lamp, a black fox appeared. It sat down in the pool of light, seemingly watching the train pull away and disappear into the city. If anyone had stood there and watched it, surely, it would have been thought of as being an odd occurrence: a fox being so daring and bold as to sit so brazenly in the open like that. But as soon as it appeared, and the train had departed, the fox did not linger and was soon running back through the obscurity of the woods. But to where, only the fox could really say. 


	5. Riddles In the Living Room

_ Sweden _

_ October 14th, 2016 _

_ 10:27 PM _

The traffic down below in the street was lessening as the night grew late. Annika sat on the couch, laptop on the coffee table in front of her. Siv was in the kitchen talking on the phone, her voice echoing throughout the small apartment. Annika was mostly browsing the internet (as she usually did in the evenings) answering emails, messages, and maybe treating herself to some frivolous online purchase. On this night, however, she kept thinking about what the Cardinal had said the day prior; about where he was from: Monterano. She ran her tongue over her teeth in thought as she pulled up a new tab on her browser. She sat up, pulling her computer into her lap, and began to type. She stared at the screen, her brow furrowed. She pulled up another tab and plugged in the name of the town again, but her brow remained furrowed, and her fingers continued to fly over the keys. She rested her chin on her hand. Her eyes flicked from link to link and page number to page number through searches. Eventually, she was joined by Siv, who plopped down onto the couch next to her.

“What are you doing so feverishly?” she asked, placing her mug of tea down onto the coaster on the table. Annika shook her head. 

“So, yesterday, the Cardinal told me where he was from, right?” Siv nodded. “So I’m looking it up: Monterano, Italy, where he said he was from.” She pointed to the map in front of her on the screen. 

“Okay and...?” Siv said, her eyes on the screen in front of her; waiting. Annika shook her head, a strange smile on her face. 

“But as I’m looking it up, right? It says here that Monterano was abandoned in 1799.” She pulled up a Wikipedia article and pointed to the date. Siv leaned forward and glared at the screen. They both exchanged a glance. 

“I wonder if he means another town? Or maybe this one was abandoned, and they made a _ new _ Monterano, you know? Or maybe they all just scattered and went elsewhere, but he was from this area maybe?” Siv asked, leaning forward to grab her mug. She blew on the steaming liquid and leaned back against the couch, clutching the cup with both hands. Annika shook her head. 

“No, so, I found this map in his collection, right?” She put her laptop back down onto the coffee table in front of her. “I’m holding it up, and I noticed that the initials of the original creator are in the corner, along with the date. So I mention it to him. He says that he was born there, and he grew up there. Why, if he grew up there, would he not recognize that the map is of a town that was abandoned long before his lifetime? Why would he tell me he grew up somewhere that’s obviously a ghost town?” Her hands fell into her lap. Siv was quiet, looking into her tea. 

“Perhaps he was lying and hoped you wouldn’t look into it?” Her voice was plain and to the point as she sipped her tea. Annika tucked her hands into her lap, shaking her head. Siv did not look at her friend and, instead, continued to stare into the depths of her tea. 

“It doesn’t make any sense. He acted like he knew exactly what it was, as though he’d walked on those roads and walkways himself with his own feet, but there’s no way that’s possible.” She pointed to the laptop. “Not if it had been abandoned since 1799, which it obviously has. It’s even listed as such in the Italian system.” They were both quiet for some time, the room falling into a tight silence. Siv sat up and placed her mug back down onto the coaster, gesturing to the laptop. 

“Give it here a second,” she said, and Annika handed her the laptop. Siv typed for a moment, scrolling through page after page, only to then turn the screen around suddenly. “Look, Annika! There’s two! It says here that everyone left after French troops sacked the original town of Monterano in 1799; it was destroyed so utterly and so completely, that the people were forced to relocate. There appears to be a smaller town here.” She gestured to the map. “It’s called Canale Monterano. But it doesn’t say if this is simply an extension of the original or a new town altogether.” Siv shrugged and handed the laptop back to Annika, who stared at the screen in front of her. 

“But that doesn’t make any sense. Why would the map be dated 1781 if the original town was abandoned in 1799 and this new town didn’t crop up until _ after _ that date?” She closed the lid of the laptop and laid it down on the coffee table, crossing her arms over her chest. Siv chuckled into her mug of tea, clutching it closely to her chest. 

“I think a better question is, why does this bother you so much? I mean, obviously he’s either mistaken about the town, didn’t look closely at the map, or he’s outright lying because he doesn’t want to tell you the truth.” Siv’s voice was soft but her words rang true, and Annika knew it. She sighed.

“I don’t know,” she whispered, tucking an errant piece of hair behind her ear. “I think he’s weird, but I want to like him. I don’t know if that makes sense: wanting to like someone. I want to talk to him, and I like talking to him.” She chuckled bitterly, her voice a low whisper as she spoke. Siv placed her mug back down on the table in front of them. 

“Look, we’ve been friends for a long time, Annika. I’m going to be real with you: it sounds like you are developing one of those weird crushes on people because they have some mystery surrounding them. There’s something unknown about them, and you always fall for people like that—and you know it.” Siv looked Annika in the eye as she spoke. Annika said nothing, her face becoming a hardened straight line. She looked down at the couch and picked at a stray thread. She was distantly aware of the sounds of traffic outside. Siv sat quietly in front of Annika and leaned her head on her hand, her elbow against the back of the couch. 

“I know,” Annika finally whispered. “He’s weird, but he’s interesting. I always do this though, and I shouldn’t, and I know you’re right because you always _ are_.” She rolled her eyes, a tight smile crossing her features as she fell backwards against the couch. Siv nodded. 

“I know. I am always right. But!” She gave a wry smile, holding up her index finger for effect. “I _ could _ be wrong. He may have seen the map and simply socially panicked. Everyone has problems, and maybe he has anxiety talking to pretty young women.” Siv crossed her eyes as she spoke and stuck her tongue out. Annika laughed, and Siv continued: “Or perhaps he thought it was a map of this new Monterano. Who knows? If you’re really interested though, and you really want to know, you may want to ask him outright. That’s what I would do.” Siv pointed to Annika as she picked up her mug of tea and got up. She turned on her heel and walked back to the kitchen, leaving Annika to sit on the couch and listen to the traffic down below and the sounds of the wind as it pushed the branches of the tree outside against the windows. 

Annika picked up her laptop and went back to browsing the internet. She googled the town once more, looking at the photos of the old abandoned village sacked by French troops and so destroyed and mangled that everyone had left it there to rot. The photos were beautiful: the stone carved lions, which had seen better days with their features worn down beyond belief from years of weather, were depicted on everything; the old buildings, now empty and lonely looking; the roads almost non-existent. She could hear Siv in the kitchen, washing dishes and putting the dry ones away. Annika sighed, closing the tabs to her online search. She knew Siv was right: she would have to ask. She didn’t want to ask. But she knew she had no choice now. She laid her laptop back down onto the coffee table and stood up, going to help clean and put things away. 

She tried to put the mystery of the town and the map out of her mind, but it haunted her all night. She lay in bed in the dark under her warm covers, thinking about it. Her eyes stayed open and glued to the ceiling: the images of the old town racing through her head. The one thing she kept thinking about, beyond the idea that the Cardinal was lying to her, was the initials in the corner of the map. _Who was S.C.?_ _And furthermore_, she thought to herself, _why give me the map of Stockholm if he was just lying to me? Or am I just something to toy with? _She bit her bottom lip as the thoughts raced through her mind. It was well into the night before Annika’s restless mind found sleep, and by the time her alarm went off in the morning, she sluggishly pulled herself out of bed and forced herself to work. 


	6. The Accident, the Errand and the Interruption

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is at this juncture in the story that I must admit to you, dear readers, that if you have not been reading, "The Time Thief" by MmeSatan, then you are missing the other half of this story. And subsequently, this half of the stories lore. So go on and scuttle over there and give that a gander with your sight orbs, so you'll know the other half. As always, thank you for reading and for your support. 
> 
> (☞ﾟ∀ﾟ)☞

_ Sweden _

_ October 17th, 2016 _

_ 6:47 PM _

She had been working alone for some time, filing through papers and maps and books and keeping a running tally on her laptop of what was where and what it was. Annika worked mostly by herself, Cardinal Copia reappearing at random times throughout the evening to either look over something or to pop in with a historical interjection about a map. At this present time during the evening, though, she had been working alone for some time, her laptop quietly playing music in the background. She hummed along as she pulled down a stack of dusty maps. The dust from the top rolled off of the maps in sheets and clouds, falling down onto Annika’s face. She shut her eyes, coughing and spluttering, trying to keep it out of her face but much to no avail. Standing on the footstool she was on, it wasn’t hard to lose your balance, and soon she went from lite coughing to full-on hacking. Her eyes squeezed shut from the burning, and then she fell directly backward off the stool and onto the hardwood floor below. 

She landed with a hard, slapping _ smack _as her back hit the floor; her head bounced off of it, once and then twice for good measure within the span of a second. The room spun and roiled for a moment in time, and she groaned again in agony, reaching up with her right hand to rub at her eyes. She laid there on her back, staring up at the ceiling for a moment. Checking to see if her vision was blurry, she tried to look around the dome-ceilinged room. It didn’t hurt to move her eyes, so she figured she must be alright and began to sit up. She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands; applying that pressure felt good for a moment, and she sighed. She wanted to cry, her lungs still full of dust and now she lay on the floor, having almost broken her back. 

“Annika?” The Cardinal’s voice was soft but urgent as he walked over to her, crouching down to her level on the floor. “Are you alright? What happened?” She shook her head and rested her forehead against her hands, supported by her elbows on her thighs. She groaned once more, eyes still closed. 

“I reached up for some maps,” she whispered. “Then all this dust came down, and I coughed too hard and somehow lost my balance and now,” she gestured to herself on the floor, chuckling bitterly, feeling her face flush with embarrassment, “here I am on the floor.” She smiled, her cheeks still burning hot with fear and unease. The Cardinal stood up, saying nothing but held his hand out to her, gesturing for her to take it. She did, and though he had his gloves on, she idly noticed how cold his hands felt through the leather. She didn’t really think about it beyond a moment though as she stood up, wobbly on her feet. 

“Are you well?” he asked, his tone quiet. She nodded.

“Yeah, I think so. But I clocked my head pretty hard.” She chuckled as she sat down on the red velvet chaise lounge nearest to her, her hand running up her neck, rubbing at the back of her head. The Cardinal nodded quietly, his hands knitted together in front of him. 

“Are you alright to go home soon? By yourself, I mean.” His words were soft, and his brow was furrowed in worry; his eyes were unblinking as they watched her closely. Annika nodded and started to stand up, only to flop back down again on the lounge. She gave a frustrated huff. 

“This may have been worse than I thought it would be.” Her cheeks flushed red again, her eyes downcast and her hand resting on the back of her head. The Cardinal stood in front of her, his hands still clasped together. He sighed, looking around the room for a moment, his tongue peeking out to lick his bottom lip before he spoke. 

“If you’d like, I can fetch you some ice, and since I am going into the city anyway, I can arrange for you to accompany me. I’m sure my driver wouldn't mind making a detour.” He flashed her a quick smile, but Annika shook her head. 

“I’ll take you up on the ice, but I think I can take the train—if I can stand in a couple of minutes.” The Cardinal simply nodded and turned on his heel and was soon to the door, walking through it and down the hall. She listened as his footsteps faded quickly, and she hoped he returned with that ice sooner rather than later. Annika sat quietly, her hand still on the back of her head. She hissed as she drew her hand away to look at it. She saw no blood, but her head was sore and pounding now. She squeezed her eyes shut and groaned, rubbing her eyes once more with her hands, hoping the pressure would relieve the throbbing. Time passed sluggishly, and she found herself checking her phone several times, wondering where in the world Copia had gotten to with the ice pack. Ten minutes turned into twenty, and soon twenty turned into thirty, and it wasn’t long before thirty turned into forty. Annika was more than concerned that he’d forgotten about her at this point, and her head was still throbbing. She was debating trying to stand up again just as the Cardinal came through the door, holding a small zip-lock bag of ice wrapped in a towel. 

“I apologize for the length of my absence.” He sounded haggard as he handed her the ice pouch, “I was...delayed.” He gave her a forced smile, and Annika took the icy cold packet from him, pressing it to the back of her head. She winced as she did so. 

“It’s alright, I appreciate that you came back. I was worried you’d forgotten.” She gave a weak smile. Copia’s eyes darted about the room, he clapped his hands together and held them tightly; the leather made the slightest squeal. 

“Are you able to stand at all?” he asked, his voice a little higher pitched than normal—strained even. Annika stood up slowly and closed her eyes as she did so.

“Everything is kind of dizzy,” she mumbled, her eyes still closed. Copia cleared his throat before he spoke; his hand sat on her shoulder, steadying her. 

“You will have to forgive me, but I must insist that we drive you home. You are in no condition for public transport.” Annika nodded and opened her eyes. Her hand gripping the ice pack to the back of her head. 

“Yeah, I have to say I agree. I must have landed really badly. My head is throbbing, and it’s dizzy. I feel so gross.” She huffed out a laugh. 

“If you’ll take my arm, we can walk down to the car. It’s waiting.” The Cardinal held his arm out for her to take, just before she did, she motioned to her laptop and her bag. Which he quickly packed up for her, albeit putting everything in the wrong pouch of her backpack, but she didn’t complain. At the door they were met by one of the masked men, who simply took her bag from the Cardinal and walked in silence behind them down to the car. The journey down to the car had taken longer than expected, and she was very dizzy by the time they reached the vehicle. One of the women who was dressed as a nun met them with a new pouch of ice; she took the old one and bowed before taking her leave. Annika slid into the back seat of the vehicle slowly: it was a brand new, sleek four-door sedan with the long limousine wheelbase, so that the distance from the passengers in the backseat to the driver in the front was further than the average sedan. She slid all the way over, and the Cardinal followed after her. The masked man who had carried her bag simply placed it into the trunk. 

The interior was black leather; it had modern touches everywhere with red ambient lighting and trim; the wood inlay was an elegant dark wood. It was obviously a very expensive car, much like the Mercedes limousine that had picked her up, but this one seemed special—obviously custom made. After all, it’s windows were tinted so dark that there was no way someone could see in unless they cupped their hands around their eyes and peered directly through the glass. Annika liked it though; it was soothing to not be able to see the very last piece of fading sunset over the horizon as brightly as she would have in any other vehicle. The door to the backseat shut with a heavy clunk, and it pulled Annika out of her reverie. She put on her seat belt and looked at the ice pack in her lap as she clicked her seat belt into place and leaned her head back against the headrest. 

“Would you rather we go to the hospital?” Copia’s voice was gentle and soft as he spoke. Annika looked over at him and shook her head. 

“No, I’ll be alright. It’s just sore. I think I just landed really badly, and it was directly on the hardwood floor.” She looked down at the ice pack in her lap. “There’s no blood, so it’s not horribly drastic or anything.” She smiled, giving a soft shrug and a laugh. Copia looked out the window as she spoke. He hummed in agreement, but he seemed lost in another thought. He was rubbing the palms of his gloved hands on his thighs as the vehicle began to pull away and out onto the driveway. Annika bit her bottom lip and looked away from him, back out her own window. It didn't hurt to watch the trees go by, but the throbbing in her head simply continued, now a dull ache. The car was almost silent; the only sounds were the tires on the gravel road and, every so often, the noise of something scraping against the side of the vehicle—probably a branch. Annika turned and looked at Copia, who still sat awkwardly with his legs planted at odd angles and his hands now clasped together in his lap. It was at that moment that the driver spoke up. 

“Sir, are we performing our conventional errand?” The man’s voice wasn’t as deep as the other masked man’s had been. This one was higher pitched and sounded friendlier, younger somehow. Annika still hated it. 

“Correct, the conventional errand, and then we shall transport Annika to her home.” He turned away from the window and looked at Annika directly. “I presume you don’t mind. I did have an item I needed to acquire in the city. I pray you find this to be a satisfactory order?” His eyes burned into her as he spoke, and in the darkness of the vehicle she found herself feeling groggy looking into his mismatched eyes. A slow smile spread across her face. She felt sleepy and a little slap happy as the car went driving along on the now paved road as they neared the city. 

“Are you alright, Annika?” Copia’s voice sounded comfortable and warm, and as he spoke his driver reached up to the center console and pushed a button; the black glass divider came up, shutting him out entirely. 

“May I ask you a question, Cardinal Copia?” Her voice was low as the car drove along peacefully, taking every corner gently. The Cardinal simply nodded. “I looked up the town you said you were from. What was it? Monterano? Yeah, that’s it. Well, whatever. It was abandoned in 1799.” Her words were gentle and warm and her face was placid, her eyes locked onto his. She slumped against the door, her face looking tired and woozy, but her eyes remained locked onto his. Copia’s fingers dug into his legs. He watched her, unblinking for several moments. The car lurched to a stop at a traffic light, breaking his concentration. He swallowed, audibly. 

“You must have found the wrong one,” he said quietly, “I’m not from Monterano, the original one!” He gave a laugh, but Annika did not laugh. She simply slumped gracelessly against the car door, her ice pack still in her lap. 

“So, which one are you from?” she asked quietly. Copia readjusted in his seat as the vehicle took off from the red light. Out the window he could just make out the first ring of the city, the first few larger buildings cropping up on the horizon. He fidgeted with his gloves, pulling on the fingertips idly. 

“I’m from _ Canale _ Monterano, which is just outside the, well, what are now ruins of the original Monterano. The one that was abandoned after the French forces destroyed it.” His voice was distant; almost a whisper. Annika hummed, indicating that she was listening, but her hands busily played with the ice pack in her lap. They sat in silence for some time. Copia looked back out the window, watching the way the countryside was turning into a city more and more the closer they got to the downtown area. Annika was leaning back into her seat again, her eyes focused out the window. She looked very tired. Copia opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it and shut it with a tight _ clink _. 

“I could fall asleep,” she whispered. Copia immediately turned to her, his brow furrowed. He reached over to her and put his hand on her shoulder, shaking her. 

“Do not fall asleep. You hit your head. You may want to rethink going to the hospital if you’re tired.” His words were delicate sounding, as though he were whispering the world’s most important secret in her ear. She shook her head. 

“It’s not that kind of tired. It’s like an emotional kind. It started when we got in the car. I don’t know what it is or where it came from. It’s starting to go away.” She shook her head. “It was like this weird fog over my brain.” She blinked her eyes several times, opening them wide as she shook her head. Copia removed his hand from her shoulder and leaned back into his seat. He looked down at his hands in his lap. 

“Do you think I should visit the hospital?” Annika asked suddenly, back to her upbeat and fast paced self. She ran a hand idly through her blond hair, pushing it back, wincing as her hand grazed the bump forming on the back of her skull from her fall. Copia shook his head, his eyes remaining fixed on his gloves in his lap. 

“No, I think you’re alright. I think you had a moment of confusion, that is all.” He smiled and only briefly looked up at her, not making eye contact. His vision skirted around her form and darted about the cabin of the luxurious vehicle. It wasn’t long before the outside landscape turned into the city, the countryside long gone behind them, and now beautiful brick and stone buildings lined the sidewalks—people walking here and there. The car passed them all quietly and smoothly, rounding each turn with the grace and poise that only a car of its quality could. 

“Where is the place for your errand?” Annika finally asked, still looking out the window. Her ice pack on her lap, now long since melted. Copia cleared his throat.

“It’s a small...shop.” He gestured with his hand, rolling his wrist as he spoke. “You may not be acquainted with it, but it’s a type of store for people of...my position in the world.” He flashed a stiff smile. Annika simply nodded.

“So, like a store for people of the cloth?” she asked quietly. 

“Yes, essentially,” Copia responded as he readjusted himself in his seat, leaning into the door and away from the woman next to him. He drummed his fingers on the car door; it made a deep thrumming noise that Copia found far too loud, and he stopped almost as soon as he started. The car kept turning this way and that, going over bridges and through tunnels. It traveled through still more intersections and passed by less and less foot traffic on the sidewalks. Annika squinted as she looked outside the tinted window and into the darkness of the evening, and she realized she had no idea where she was. The buildings were run down, and the foot traffic (what little there was) hurried on past the speeding car, seemingly trying to not be noticed. Annika stared out the window and distantly felt an increasing concern; the same concern she’d felt that day when she was first left at the train station. It was only distant though as she looked over at Copia and made immediate eye contact with him. He looked away out the window. Annika squinted at him, but just before she could say a word, the car lurched to a stop. The driver did not open the glass divider between them, but instead, knocked twice with his knuckles. Copia opened the car door and stood up, dusting himself off as he did so. He turned around to Annika, who sat still and quiet in the car, a piece of her afraid of what might happen to her now. But Copia held up his gloved hand. 

“Please wait here, and I shall return momentarily.” Without another word, he shut the car door. The doors were locked, and the car idled quietly by the curb. Through the tinted glass, Annika could just make out the Cardinal walking away towards what appeared to be an alleyway sandwiched between two older, derelict buildings. But as he disappeared into the darkness, a sudden bright light shone out, and she realized it was the door to where he was going being opened. The light from inside the establishment flooded the dark alley, if for only a moment, before it was draped in shadows once more. She leaned back in her seat, fidgeting with her ice pack. She hadn’t felt groggy like she had earlier. At least that had seemed to fade away. She still felt remarkably stupid for falling the way she did. She couldn’t wait to tell Siv; she just knew she would get an earful. She laughed to herself, thinking about all of the “I told you so's” she was going to receive.

She sat in the car and played with the melted ice pack, waiting and waiting and waiting, the time growing later and later, and soon Annika found herself leaning her head on to the frame of the car door. She closed her eyes, idly wondering what kind of store that sold church goods and paraphernalia would take so long, when suddenly the car door was jerked open and in slid Copia with a small brown paper bag. He gave her a tight smile and tucked the bag down under his seat in a small compartment with a little pop out door. He then turned to Annika. 

“I apologize deeply for the length of that errand. I had ordered something, and it seems the shop keeper had misplaced it. I apologize. I didn't mean to delay you.” He inclined his head, as though he were bowing. She laughed, squishing the melted ice pack in her hands. 

“It’s alright, I took a mini nap while I waited. Oh yeah, your driver needs my address.” Copia gestured to the glass divider between them and instead pulled down the middle console between them, revealing a phone. He picked it up and handed it to her, “Simply speak into this and disclose to him the destination.” Annika took the phone and put it to her ear. On the other end, someone was breathing. It was raspy and taught and uncomfortable to listen to. She sensed no politeness. 

“Hi, uh, so we need to head back to Vasastan.” She gave the driver exact instructions and then hung up the phone. The car revved its engine and took off, doing a U-turn in the middle of the road to head back up to where they needed to be. She noticed almost immediately the neighborhood they had been in, with its poor foot traffic and somewhat run down buildings and industrial feel to it, was left behind. It didn’t take long for them to reach the outside of her building; its brick exterior and six-floor walk up were simple enough and par for the course. Many buildings looked like this in her neighborhood. Copia helped her out of the vehicle and held his arm out to her, which she did gladly take as she was still a bit uneasy—or rather, she was anxious about walking after what had happened. The driver of the vehicle had placed it into park and stopped the engine, he went to the trunk and pulled Annika’s bag out, following behind the other two silently, the bag dangling from one finger. Offhandedly, Annika wondered how someone could carry such a thing with only one finger, but it was a fleeting thought. 

When they reached her door six floors up, she gestured to her bag that the masked man carried, and he held it up for her. She took it from him, thanking him quietly. He bowed and dismissed himself, wandering back down with efficiency to the car parked on the curb—albeit, illegally. Annika fished around for her keys, and as she stood up, she tucked an errant piece of thick, blond hair behind her ear. 

“Thank you for driving me home. I really do appreciate it. You didn’t have to.” She smiled at him, looking him in the eyes. He nodded his head, his hands clasped behind his back and his eyes locked onto hers. 

“You are most welcome, Annika. It was of no inconvenience to my driver or myself.” A soft smile spread across his features, and suddenly, Annika felt very warm and sleepy again as she had in the car. She ran a hand up along the back of her neck and to her head, her fingers gently rubbing at the bump forming there. She couldn't take her eyes away from his, and she found herself struggling to stay upright. She felt loopy and happy and warm, like she was on hospital-grade pain medication. She’d hadn’t felt this way since that time she’d had an outpatient procedure. She smiled a slow, languid smile, her eyes half lidded as she spoke. 

“You know, I don't believe you about where you say you’re from.” Her voice was sluggish and sloppy sounding, and she leaned back against the frame of her front door. Copia’s eyes widened and locked onto hers, his hands tightly clasped in front of him. He tilted his head. 

“Is that so?” His voice was deadly serious and taut. The presence in the hall was heavy and palpable, though Annika herself could not feel it. She laughed instead. Copia took a small step towards her so that they were closer than they had ever been before. His voice was lowered to a whisper, eyes narrowed dangerously. 

“Why ever do you not believe me, Annika Nyström?” His eyes did not blink, and they focused in on her’s. She stopped smiling but still felt like puddy, her legs starting to wobble. 

“It doesn't make sense,” she whispered. Copia inclined his head, his brow furrowed. “I found that book, the one about...vampirism. It had a,” she paused, teetering for a moment against the frame of the door behind her, “it had an Ankh on it. Why do you have that?” He leaned forward, his mismatched eyes still unblinking and focused solely on hers. She felt like she was going to fall asleep; everything felt warm and comfortable—even leaning against the hardwood frame of the door. Copia was just in front of her, their noses almost touching, his eyes were impossibly wide. Annika didn't seem to notice, she simply stared back and smiled with a sloppy, happy look on her face. The hallway was closing in on her, and nothing else seemed to matter except this man in front of her with his hypnotic stare. Annika reached up and pushed her fingers against his shoulder, but he didn’t move back and vaguely a part of her mind asked, _ why is he cold? _ But she pushed at him anyway. The smile on her face was beginning to fade as she realized that she was alone now with this man whose unblinking gaze had her stuck there, trapped between himself and the door. She couldn’t even get her keys out, and she gave a nervous laugh. “I didn’t mean to offend you.” Her words were small. “I just think there's something you’re not telling me. My boss told me-” He cut her off; his words were gentle but demanding. 

“And what ever did your boss tell you?” His lips barely moved as he spoke, his eyes still unblinking and staring straight through her.

She teetered for a second, trying to push her back up away from the frame of the door, but she couldn’t seem to muster the energy for it. She was so tired but refused to close her eyes. She didn’t think she’d hit her head this hard. But she pressed on, her words slurring slightly as they came out: “He told me you were in a cult. He said,” she sighed, laughing slightly, “he said I shouldn’t call you all because people had gone missing around your institution.” She smiled again, that same lazy, tired, sleepy smile spreading across her face; her eyes were still half lidded. Copia hummed. 

“Is that why you don’t believe me when I tell you where I’m from?” The irises of his eyes seemed to pulsate to some unearthly beat that Annika had never heard, nor seen before, and she felt herself falling into them. Her voice was monotone and languid. 

“No, I-” before she could answer the door behind her whipped open and there stood Siv, straight backed and glaring. Annika shook her head, feeling that dizziness disappearing almost immediately; she felt awake and alert as soon as she laid eyes on her roommate. Siv stepped back from the doorway, holding the door open. 

“Come on, Annika,” she said hurriedly; sharply. Annika stepped inside the door, and the Cardinal stepped back, bowing his head slightly. 

“I’ll let you know if I’m coming in on Thursday. I want to make sure I’m okay. I’ve been feeling kind of dizzy ever since. Is that alright?” she asked, her voice back to its same old sound; the wooziness was all but gone. Copia nodded.

“Of course! Please, call my office and let us know how you are. I am dreadfully apologetic that you fell the way you did. If you end up going to the hospital or a doctor, do enlighten us as to your condition.” He bowed to her once more, his hand over his heart. He stood up straight and smiled at her. She smiled back, waving as Siv closed the door and latched it immediately. Copia could hear the way the locks behind the door (three of them, to be precise) all latched quickly and firmly. His smile disappeared as he walked back down the stairs, taking them two at a time. His arms hung at his sides, his hands flexing open and then shut again; his leather gloves squeaking quietly as he did so, straining their stitching. He bit the inside of his mouth. As he walked out into the darkness of the cool fall evening, all he could think about was how long she resisted him and how it had been a very, very long time since he’d let anyone walk away alive after an encounter of that depth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Go read MmeSatan's "The Time Thief" 
> 
> DONT FORGET. Especially if you enjoy Crisp lore.


	7. Phone Calls and Superstitions

_ Sweden _

_ October 19th, 2016 _

_ 11:21 AM _

“Yes, hello! I need to speak with Cardinal Copia, if that's at all possible?” Annika said into her phone. She sat on her couch, an ice pack on the coffee table in front of her and a bottle of some muscle relaxers next to a glass of orange juice. She nodded as she listened to the other voice on the line. “Yes, I understand that, but I need to let him know personally why I won’t be there tonight.” Her knee bounced nervously as she listened, nodding her head against her phone, her lips pressed together tightly. “Yes, I know he’s asleep. I understand, but,” she sighed, “look, it’s a long story, but I fell on Tuesday, and I ended up going to the doctor yesterday, and I’m not doing well. I need to let—oh, uh, yeah okay, I’ll hold.” The voice on the other side placed her on a long silent hold after cutting her off abruptly, obviously not interested in her story. She got up and began to walk around the living room, walking over to the large window and staring out of it—her forehead pressed against the cool glass. She watched the traffic, six stories below, moving about. The people walked by in the crisp fall air, leaves dancing in small tornadoes around their feet. She pulled her phone away from her ear and checked the time; she’d been on hold for a good ten minutes. She milled about her apartment, phone pressed between her shoulder and her ear, waiting and waiting and waiting. After what seemed like forever (with no hold music) a voice picked up. It was groggy and gravelly. 

“Why didn’t you just leave a message?” She was taken off guard by the voice and didn’t respond for a few seconds. “Hello?” She licked her bottom lip and scrambled back to the couch. 

“Oh, I’m sorry Cardinal! I wanted to let you know personally. I was afraid a message might not get to you until it was too late in the evening.” She tried to sound as apologetic as possible. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to disrupt your schedule!” She sat on her couch, pressing her chin into her hand, which was supported by her elbow on her knee; a nervous habit she had. He hummed into the phone, his voice sounded far away and tired.

“It is acceptable. I thank you for letting me know your circumstances. May I inquire as to what happened? I take it you went to a medical professional?” Everything he said sounded as though he were laying down, tired, half-awake; his voice deep and slow, unlike she’d ever heard him before. She bit her bottom lip, chastising herself for thinking about how much she liked the way he sounded in that moment. She shook her head, trying to dispel that thought. 

“Yeah! My roommate Siv made me go to a doctor, and they told me I really did hit my head hard. They gave me some muscle relaxers for my neck and told me I needed to lay down and recover. I’ll be back next week though, I promise.” She gave a soft laugh, and Copia chuckled deeply. Silence reigned between them for a moment before Annika spoke up. 

“I uh,” she looked around the room, “I also wanted to speak directly to you so I could apologize.” Her voice was almost a whisper, and she felt her cheeks turning hot. 

“Whatever for?” Copia’s voice was deep and dark, almost a growl as he spoke. Annika had the distinct feeling he was very tired. She fumbled with her words trying to get them out as fast as possible. 

“Just the other day. I realized that I told you I didn't believe you, and I shouldn’t have said that. It was wrong, and it was rude, and I’m sorry. It was presumptuous to joke like that, and I shouldn’t have done that. I realize you were angry, and I just wanted you to know that I didn't mean it in a malicious way.” Her words all came tumbling out with such speed that they seemed to blend together in pieces. She closed her eyes as she spoke, her nerves almost getting the better of her. Copia was quiet on the other end of the line. He hummed. 

“No, you have nothing to apologize for. You were simply speaking your mind, and that is something I value in...” he paused for a moment that seemed a bit too long, “an assistant.” Annika sighed. 

“Well, I appreciate that. But I am sorry. If I can make it up to you—” Copia cut her off. 

“There is nothing to make up for, Annika. You did nothing wrong.” His voice was like stone; unyielding. She nodded silently against the phone as Copia continued. “I do have some paperwork though that I think you’d enjoy seeing. Would it be presumptuous of me to ask if I may bring it to you? Of course, if you’re too ill, I understand completely and wouldn’t want to impose upon you if—” She quickly spoke over top of him.

“No, no, no, that's totally fine. I’m not bed ridden or anything,” she laughed. “My doctor just doesn’t want me, like, lifting anything heavy or being up on ladders for a couple of days. So if you want to stop by and give me some paperwork or whatever, that's totally fine.” She pushed her hair behind her ear, her fingers lingering for a moment, her teeth biting into her bottom lip. He was silent on the other end of the phone for a moment. Annika didn't interrupt him; she knew he was thinking. Everything he did seemed to take an eternity. Finally, she heard his voice over the line. 

“I can arrive this evening at your home at 6:30 PM, if that is agreeable?” His voice was stiff but sounded warmer than it had in the past, and she found herself playing with a loose strand of hair idly. 

“Yeah! That's fine, I’ll make sure my house is, uh, somewhat clean and respectable,” she said, looking around at the basket of clean, yet unfolded, laundry, some dirty dishes here and there, and what appeared to be a plastic bag of trash dangling from a chair waiting to be taken down to the dumpster. She winced. 

“Very well, I shall see you at 6:30 PM, Annika Nyström. Please, do not overexert yourself. If you feel too unwell for a visit, call back and alert my staff in a prompt manner.” Before Annika had a chance to reply or thank him, he had hung up. She looked at her cellphone, huffing as she put it down. She ran both of her hands through her hair, shaking it out. She stared at the pile of laundry and figured she could just hide the basket in her room. The dishes would be easy enough to dispel. But, the trash? She couldn’t go all the way downstairs and all the way back up with what the doctor had said. She sighed, leaning her head back against the couch, her fingers digging into her scalp. She wasn’t tired, just uncoordinated and woozy; a piece of her debated throwing the trash bag out the window and letting it fall where it may. The thought made her smile. 

“What's so funny, oh fragile and injured one?” Siv asked dryly, chuckling at her own jibe as she came walking out of her room, fully dressed in slacks and a button down. She was walking towards the closet, rummaging around for her shoes. Annika sat up. 

“Nothing, just picturing the image of everyone on the street’s faces when I throw that bag of garbage down onto the sidewalk.” She huffed out a laugh. Siv smiled, digging her shoes out of the pile. 

“I don't think that's wise. I’ll just take it down on my way into work.” She sat down on the couch and began to put her shoes on. “So, you going to lay around and watch TV all day?” Siv asked, tying the laces of her brown jack boots tightly and pulling the cuff of her pants down over top the leather rim. 

“Well, I was going to lie around for a while, you know,” Annika gestured to the muscle relaxers, “chill out.” She smirked, leaning forward for the remote. Siv nodded knowingly, suppressing a tight smile. “Then around like 6:30, Cardinal Copia is coming by with some paperwork he wants me to see and go over with him. I’m kind of hoping he’ll offer to pay for takeout dinner.” She hummed delightfully. Siv turned away and walked over to the closet, grabbing her brown jacket out and slipping it on. She adjusted the collar. 

“Listen, Annika,” Siv said as she reached for a red scarf hanging up on the rack behind the closet door. “I need to tell you something.” She held onto the scarf in her hands tightly. Her lips pressed together firmly. Annika looked up. 

“What's up?” She asked, trying to sit up and be more attentive, though that was never her strong suit. Siv sighed and looked around the small apartment, running a hand along her shaved head of black hair. Siv wrapped the ends of the scarf nervously around her hands. 

“The other night, when you got home and you were acting kind of out of it? You were loopy, and you said you had been dizzy and feeling faint?” Annika nodded and Siv continued, “When I opened the front door, you were pushed back against it, like you were trying to get away from this Cardinal guy. He was very, very close to your face; you were both very close to each other in general, but he didn't back off until I ripped the door open and made my presence known.” Her voice was very clear cut and plain, as though she had been rehearsing this all morning. Siv looked down at the scarf in her hands and quickly began to tie it around her neck in a loose knot. Annika furrowed her brow. 

“Wait, you’re making it sound like you saw this happen? Did you watch through the porthole in the door?” She pointed to the front door, and Siv sighed in defeat.

“I heard you coming up the stairs and I just,” she closed her eyes for a moment, “well, when you didn't come in right away, I listened at the door.” The room fell into a heavy silence. 

“You listened to my conversation with him? I mean, to be honest, I barely remember it.” Annika shook her head. “It’s all foggy for some reason. I just remember being really close to him and laughing about something, but I can't remember what or why.” She furrowed her brow again, this time looking down at the floor, her hands clasped together between her knees, her teeth digging into her bottom lip. Siv began to button up her jacket.

“He was very, very close to your face. His eyes were super wide.” She held open her own eyes with each hand, showing how wide his must have been, though it was not comical, but was more horrifying than anything else. “He was really creepy about it, Annika. Really and truly, it made me wildly uncomfortable. He kept whispering to you, and I couldn't hear a word of what he said. But you laughed awkwardly, and it seemed like you were uncomfortable, but you never said anything. So that's why I opened the door when I did.” She tucked her hands into her brown jackets pockets and looked down at the floor. Annika stared off out the large window in their living room.

“You know how, in the beginning when I told you what Lennart said?” Annika asked quietly. Siv nodded. “I don't think he’s in a cult. But I do think he’s not what he says he is.” She sighed. Siv looked up, shaking her head. 

“So why are you still working for him? Why are you allowing him into this house?” Siv’s voice was beginning to rise.

“Because he’s had plenty of opportunities to hurt me, and he hasn’t. He had me totally at his disposal the other day, and he did nothing but help me.” Annika’s voice was small but resolved; convicted. Siv shook her head.

“Yeah? And now you're going to let him waltz into this house, when no one else is here but you and him? You’ll be at his mercy one more time, Annika. Honestly, after what I heard the other night; after what I _ saw_, you’re putting yourself into critical danger.” Siv’s voice rose again, but Annika simply looked down at the floor, her lips pressed together tightly, her hands in her lap. 

“Can I tell you something, Siv? Or will you think I’m a crazy idiot?” She looked up at her roommate. The silence in the room was heavy and tight. The sounds of car horns down below beeping every so often could be heard. The wind rattled the old windows gently as Annika waited. Siv’s features softened, and she shook her head.

“Crazy? Maybe. An idiot?” She sighed. “Never. Go on. What is it?” Her words were clipped but warm. Annika smiled, sitting up on the couch and crossing her legs. 

“I looked up where he was from. You know, the place in Italy?” Siv nodded. Annika went on. “It’s been abandoned since 1799, and he claimed that he was actually from a nearby town of the same name. But that doesn't fit, it doesn’t make sense.” She shook her head. “But, I found this book in his collection. It was ancient, covered in dust, and it had this horrible feeling to it? Like it was dangerous, or like it was something I shouldn't be looking at, let alone touching.” She drew in a breath, and Siv watched her closely, her eyes squinted. “Anyway, it had an Ankh on the cover. It was an old, black metal symbol on the cover of this beautifully soft leather bound book. If you don't know, an Ankh is the ancient symbol for vampirism.” The room was quiet for only a moment before Siv started to chuckle. 

“Oh, _ what_, you think he’s a vampire?” She leaned forward as she spoke, a huge smile on her face. “Annika that IS crazy! They’re not real! They’re things out of folklore!” She couldn't help the laugh that crawled out of her throat. Annika looked up at her roommate, her face deadly serious. 

“Listen, when I first met him, he told me about a medical condition he had. He can’t go out in the sun, and he needs a lot of sleep. So he sleeps all day and works at night.” Siv’s laughter began to peter off as Annika continued. “When I first started working there, he had this servant, assistant, whatever. The guy was like a walking zombie: pale, drab, eyes sunken in, the works. But as soon as I got there and started working there, the guy was just gone! Totally gone and Copia never mentioned him since. That isn't a little weird to you? That doesn’t strike you as odd?” Annika asked, her voice very serious. Siv said nothing but nodded tightly, her arms now crossed over her chest. Annika shook her head, running the tip of her index finger on the pattern on the couch as she continued, “And he has this weird hypnotic way about him with others, and when he dropped me off the other night? He ran an errand before we came here. We went down into a really seedy part of town. He went into this shop or something,” she waved her hand vaguely, “but he was in there for a good twenty minutes. And on top of all of all of that, as if nothing could fit the bill anymore then it already does, I looked up that article, the one about that woman Lennart told me about.” Siv squinted. 

“The one about the woman who claimed the Emeritus Church was a cult?” Siv walked towards the back of the wing backed chair and leaned on it, now fully enthralled in her roommates discovery. 

“Yeah, so I looked it up, right? Lennart wasn’t lying, and he wasn’t exaggerating. In the article, they didn't mention it, but in the logged archive materials, they did. When the police found this woman? She’d had multiple strange puncture wounds on her neck.” Annika stopped speaking and went back to circling her finger on the pattern on the couch. Siv watching her closely. The silence in the room was deafening. 

“So, let me get this straight: he says he’s from a town that's been gone since 1799, he sleeps all day, he has a sunlight allergy, he’s in possession of an odd book despite having a private archive filled with weird things, he shops at odd places in bad neighborhoods, he’s got a firm grip of hypnosis and how to use it, AND,” Siv said loudly, holding up her index finger for effect, Annika looking up at her, “you found an article about a woman who may, or may not have, just stabbed herself in the neck with something cylindrical and claimed to have been abducted because, as we all know and even Lennart admitted it, the police found no connection between her and the Emeritus Church. Do I have all this straight?” Siv asked, her voice was plain and to the point, but stern and tight. Annika nodded silently, biting her bottom lip. 

“Yes.” Annika said quietly, as though she were being scolded by a parent. Siv stood up and drummed her fingers absently on the back of the chair in front of her. 

“So, all that information given, you’re still going to let this guy into our house.” She stared at Annika, raising her eyebrows as she did so and holding out her hands, shrugging sarcastically. “Just going to let a vampire into the house!” She smiled broadly at Annika and finally letting her arms fall to her sides, walking towards the front door as she did. “Look, Annika,” she sighed, her voice becoming gentler, more of a soothing tone, “I don't think you're an idiot. For the record, I know you’re not an idiot. But I do think, maybe, you bumped your head a little too hard the other day, yeah?” She made eye contact with Annika, waiting for a response. Annika simply nodded, looking down at the couch as Siv finally reached for the doorknob. She opened the heavy wooden door and stepped through it, allowing it to slam shut behind her. Annika listened as her roommates steps faded down the stairs and then out of earshot. 

She got up slowly and made her way over to the window, watching as Siv walked away down the sidewalk and was soon out of sight around the corner. Annika sighed, feeling tremendously stupid all of a sudden. How ridiculous it sounded now that Siv had laid it all out. _ Maybe I am reading into things; maybe I did bump my head too hard, _ she thought. She turned around to begin collecting some dirty dishes, piling them on top of one another to take to the kitchen. “Vampires aren't real anyway. It's all just old world stories to frighten people.” She whispered to herself as she carried the assortment of glasses, bowls, and utensils into the kitchen, passing by the bag of trash that Siv had forgotten: she sighed. She walked into the kitchen, placing the dishes into the sink and ran the water, waiting for it to get hot. Standing at the counter she looked out of the window, looking directly into the boughs of the tree that grew up out of the sidewalk in front of their apartment building—its beautiful orange, red, and yellow leaves dancing and moving in the wind. She ran her hand along the back of her neck, listening to the water running in the sink, waiting for that steam to begin to rise; her fingers gently running over the silver linked chain she was wearing. She tugged on it absently. The crucifix under her shirt bounced against her chest as she did so. 


	8. The Visit

_ Sweden _

_ October 19th, 2016  _

_ 6:27 PM _

Annika waited impatiently, watching TV as she flipped through her phone. She was nervous. After her conversation with Siv earlier, she felt stupid. Her eyes flitted between the small screen in her hand and the larger screen in front of her. The sun had set some time ago, and now only the slightest, last lingering colors painted the sky outside, beyond the beautiful tree outside her living room window. She sighed, gripping her phone a little too tightly perhaps, her knee bouncing up and down from the ball of her left foot. She sat sideways on the couch, waiting in a most undignified manner. She refused to change her clothes into anything other than sweatpants and a t-shirt. She was no longer dizzy, but she was glad to have some time off—despite the circumstances. She continued to play on her phone, her eyes still anxiously darting back and forth between the phone screen and the television. 

Annika’s knee stopped jumping up and down as a knock sounded at the front door. It was firm and solid against the hardwood. She sat up, laying her phone on the coffee table in front of her. She pressed her lips together, all the thoughts of the day culminating in one moment: to open the door or not. Everything Siv said came rushing back to her as she slowly stood up and walked around the coffee table and towards the door. The knocking did not come again, but Annika knew he was on the other side. She drew in a breath and opened the door sharply. She had intended to smile, as you do when you open your front door to visitors, but here Annika found herself faltering at the flowers Copia was holding out to her. 

“I was unsure as to the type you would prefer. So, I selected a menagerie.” Annika stared at the flowers and then at him. 

“Thank you,” she said as she took them from him, biting her bottom lip and feeling a genuine smile spread across her face. “You didn’t have to do this! But, I do appreciate it very much. Thank you.” All the thoughts she’d had about what Siv said earlier seemed to be banished with one simple gesture. Copia had his hands clasped behind his back, and he stood on the edge of the doorway as Annika moved further into her apartment. She laid the flowers down onto the coffee table and returned to the door. “I’m sorry, you can come in. I didn’t mean to walk away. I just got distracted.” She rolled her eyes at herself and laughed. Copia smiled at her with a tight grin, taking one step over the threshold of her door and then another, slowly. He seemed to be evaluating the apartment, looking around here and there, inspecting the photos on the walls as Annika shut the door tightly behind him. He turned around abruptly. 

“Oh, I apologize, someone is accompanying me with the box of paperwork I wanted you to see.” He held up a gloved hand as he spoke, and just as the words left his mouth, a harsh, pounding knock came at the door. Annika opened it, and a tall, masked man walked carefully into the apartment with a large box, laying it down on the floor, only to turn around again, nod to her, and leave without a word. He tilted his head back and forth, as though he were muttering to himself as he ran down the stairs two at a time, back down to the car. Annika went to pick the box up, but Copia stopped her as he shut the door behind the masked man.

“Allow me.” He held his hands up, palms outward, and Annika nodded her consent. She walked over to the couch and sat down, Copia placing the box in front of her on the coffee table. It was a cardboard box with a folded cardboard lid—all acid free in its construction so that its documents would be preserved in a pristine state. 

“You can sit down.” She gestured to the chair across from her on the other side of the coffee table. 

“Not at this present time. I’ll stand, but I thank you for your offer.” He bowed his head slightly. Annika smiled up at him, taking the lid off of the box and laying it down next to her on the couch. “Oh no! The flowers! Hold on, one second.” She went to jump up, but moved too fast and was forced to slow down. 

“Are you alright?” Copia asked, leaning towards her. “The flowers will be adequate, if you wish to leave them until later.” His voice was soft, almost a whisper, and his eyes were fixed on her. Annika didn't notice though; she was too busy rubbing the back of her neck. 

“I’m okay, it’s my own fault.” She rolled her eyes and huffed out a laugh, “I shouldn't have taken one of those muscle relaxers. Everything is all wobbly, and I feel a little like Jell-O.” She laughed awkwardly. Copia nodded. 

“It is perfectly fine. You are free to sit while I pull everything out.” He opened the lid to the box as he spoke and began to pull out what appeared to be letters. They were horribly stained; some of them had burn marks and tears in them. Annika began to pick them up one by one and scrutinize them. Some of them were small maps scribbled on parchment. 

“Where did you get these?” she whispered. Copia continued to empty out the paperwork. 

“Around.” He shrugged. “Some at auctions; some were gifts; some were purchased through other collectors.” He gestured to the window, the one that overlooked the tree outside. “May I? It is awfully warm in here.” Annika looked up.

“Oh! Yeah, sure, go for it! Sorry, I didn’t realize it was that warm in here.” Copia opened the window, and a cooler breeze came fluttering in. He turned back to her, watching the way she filed through everything, biting her bottom lip as she did so. 

“So, what about this one?” she asked, holding out a small unrecognizable map. 

“That would be Milano. In Italy.” He shrugged once more, sighing, “I do not know where it came from or how old it is.” Annika nodded, and Copia milled around the living room with his hands clasped behind his back. He was tense. He kept looking at the photos on the walls, walking from one set to another. Annika looked up, a small grin on her face. 

“Spying, I see?” She asked quietly, still rifling through the paperwork. Copia hummed. 

“No, simply looking. There is indeed a difference.” A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He found himself thinking back to the other night, how she had resisted him for so long. He looked down at his shoes for a moment, his hands clenched into fists. It had been such a long time since anyone had resisted the pull quite that long. He shook his head, trying to think about something else. Trying not to think about all those years ago, the last time someone had resisted that much. 

“So, what did you want me to do with all of this?” Annika said, still filing through the pile of paperwork on the coffee table. Copia turned around, his gloved hands interlaced. 

“I simply wanted to see if you thought it had a place in your…” he paused, “in your cloud system or if you wanted me to throw it out.” He stood very still, his mismatched eyes watching her closely. Annika squinted at him. 

“I mean, I could have just done this when I got back on Monday.” She shrugged, looking up at him through her blonde lashes. He tilted his head this way and that as he walked over to the couch, looming over her for a moment. She looked up at him and smiled. “You can sit down, you know.” She gestured to the spot next to her. Copia sat quickly, his hands in his lap, his eyes glued to her face. 

“The truth is, Annika, I wanted to check on you, and I wanted to apologize to you as well.” He lowered his gaze, looking down at the floor for a moment. “I shouldn’t have cornered you the other night, and I apologize. I didn’t realize until much later that it may have been rude and presumptuous of me.” She laid the paperwork she was holding down onto the table. 

“It’s okay, I shouldn’t have said what I said. So, I guess we were both in the wrong.” She said gently, giving him a reassuring smile. “But you could have told me on the phone, after all. You didn't have to come all the way down here.” She laughed, pushing some errant strand of hair nervously behind her ear. Copia kept his vision glued to the floor, but he allowed a small smile to tug at his lips.

“No, I needed to apologize face-to-face.” He shrugged once more. “I shouldn’t have been so aggressive. It’s, uh...it’s hard for me. Socializing again.” In an instant he realized what he’d said, and his eyes widened. But Annika didn’t miss a beat, and she scooted just a bit closer to him. 

“It’s alright, I’m the same way. I only have my one friend, my roommate, anymore. I guess as I got older my friends kind of disappeared.” She laughed bitterly. Copia nodded in silence. He turned to her, locking eyes with her, his brow furrowed. 

“I am not someone who has had many friends.” His voice was almost a whisper. “I saw on your wall there,” he gestured with his hand held out, “you have photos of you and some other people. Would you mind telling me who they are?” 

“Sure!” She pointed to the one of her with a man and a woman, both of whom had blonde hair and glasses, “That’s me and my mom and dad.” She smiled for a moment, looking at the photo. “I was probably ten there. My mom died about a year later from breast cancer, and my dad died two years ago from a heart attack. I don't have any siblings or anything.” She turned to Copia, a smile on her face, but it was sad and lingering. He looked between her and the photograph. 

“That is very difficult. To watch someone disappear.” He said quietly. Annika shrugged. 

“Not really, I mean, I expected it for my mom. We knew it would happen. But my dad was the sudden one. No warning, nothing. Just... _ boom _ ...gone.” She snapped her fingers. The room dissolved into a strange silence, but it was not uncomfortable. She drew in a sharp breath and sighed, resting her chin into her hand, supported by her elbow on her knee. 

“What about your parents?” She asked. Her voice was even and full of curiosity. Copia opened his mouth and shut it again quickly. He looked around the room for a moment before turning back to her. 

“They died, many years ago. In truth, I do not remember them at all. I was raised by,” he paused for a fraction of a second, “I was raised by the Church.” He turned to her once more, this time locking eyes with her again. She stared back at him, but only for a moment before leaning back against the couch, pulling her legs up to cross them. 

“I’m sorry, that's super shitty. You never knew them or anything. I’m sure they’d be proud of you though. You seem to have made it pretty high up, yeah?” She laughed, punching him lightly on the upper arm with her fist. He looked at her with a confused face but forced a huff of a laugh. 

“Yes, proud.” He looked at the box of paperwork in front of them, eager to change the subject. “I’m sorry I came down here under false pretenses. I just wanted to apologize to you.” He tried not to make eye contact and instead continued to look at the floor. Annika yawned, nodding her head. 

“I’m sorry, I took muscle relaxers, and now I’m tired. I promise I’m not being rude!” She laughed, rolling her head back against the top of the couch. Copia gave her a slow smile. “May I ask you a question?” She asked quietly. Copia nodded silently. “What's it like growing up alone like that? Like, no siblings, no parents, just a Church full of people who took you in for charity, I presume?” She bit her bottom lip, her head still leaning back against the couch. Copia watched her closely, noticing how sleepy she looked. He continued to pull his gaze away from her. He tilted his head back and forth as he thought of a suitable answer but was now caught between the point of lying or telling his complete truth. He didn’t know what to do. 

“Well, it’s hard because you’re alone with strangers, but they’re trying their best. And sometimes, you get along with one person who is kind of a mentor to you. I was lucky enough to have such a person. But many people were not.” He sighed. “We don’t always see—we didn't always see—eye to eye, but they were always there for me in some way. But yes, it is hard being alone like that. Having to fend for yourself is difficult.” His voice dropped down the gentlest whisper as he spoke. Annika watched him closely, her eyes glued to his face. 

“Yeah, fending for yourself is hard.” She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest as she spoke. “After my dad died, I found myself all alone. My mom was gone, and my grandparents had all died. Fuck, even my mom’s family had disappeared over the last twelve years and my dad’s family was minimal and very far away. So I had no one but friends and even then,” she shook her head, “a lot of them disappeared within a year.” She looked down at the floor. “Siv’s the only one who stuck around and put up with my bullshit.” Annika smirked sarcastically. Copia nodded silently. The room was quiet. The only sound was now the rushing of cars down below and the occasional yell from a passerby on foot. He turned to her once again, his mismatched eyes locking with hers. A part of him wanted to see how long she could withstand him, but another part was afraid—terribly afraid of what would happen if she couldn't hold off or if he couldn’t stop himself: like last time. He turned his head and looked at her, locking eyes with her. She smiled back at him, a small, tired smile. 

“I’m relieved that you were able to fend for yourself. I’m sure your parents would be proud of you, too.” He said quietly. Annika laughed. 

“Yeah, they would be, I mean. My mom would have bitched. She wanted me to be a doctor, but hey, we can’t have all our dreams, you know?” She looked him in the eye, an infectious smile on her face. Copia smiled back at her. His fingers drummed instinctively on his thigh to some beat only he could hear. 

“I don't know what my parents would have wanted me to do. Probably what they did I suppose.” He said quietly, still staring unblinkingly into her eyes. 

“What did they do? Do you know?” She asked, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment as she yawned. He shrugged. 

“I haven't the faintest idea.” He laughed a deep, dark sound. “I was raised from a child in the Church, so they must have either died or given me to the Church.” A crooked grin crossed his features, and he sighed. Annika nodded gently, her head back against the couch again. 

“Sorry, my eyes keep closing. I think it’s these muscle relaxers.” She gestured to the bottle on the table in front of her. “They make me tired.” Copia nodded, but they both stared at each other for a moment longer. Annika feeling that same loopy light-headedness she’d felt in the car and then once again in the hallway when he’d dropped her off. She didn’t think anything of it but simply smiled at him. He stood up, breaking eye contact with her. He began to put the paperwork back in the box, but Annika stopped him. 

“Don't worry about that. I’ll deal with it tomorrow.” She sat up, shaking her head slightly. 

“Are you positive?” He asked, halfway to picking up another piece of paper. Annika nodded. 

“Yeah, absolutely, don't worry about it. I do appreciate you coming down and apologizing.” She ran her left hand through her hair, her cheeks turning pink as she spoke. “You didn’t have to do that. You could have just called.” 

“Well, I did wish to see what your condition was. But yes, I could have called. This was better, I think.” He gave her a small grin. She crossed her arms over her chest once more, a warm flush in her cheeks. 

“Yeah, this was better I think, too.” They both stared at one another for a moment. Annika biting her bottom lip. Copia clenching his hands together. “So, I’ll bring this box back with me next week,” Annika said, turning and gesturing to the box of paperwork. Copia simply nodded. 

“That would be best. Please, rest this weekend and return in one piece.” As he reached the door, he turned around and bowed to her. Annika laughed, her cheeks flushing again. 

“Don’t bow! What is that? It’s so weird. You don't have to bow to me.” Her voice was quiet and small, and Copia smiled at her as he stood back up. “Oh! Thank you so much for the flowers, by the way. I’ll make sure they get put in water soon.” 

“You are most welcome, Annika Nyström.” His voice was gentle and warm. Annika bit her bottom lip again, her tongue running over it gently as she walked towards the door. Copia opened it, and the cool air from the hallway came rushing inside. 

“I shall see you next week then.” He turned and gave her a curt bow once again, and she laughed awkwardly. 

“Yeah, sure, next week. Thank you again.” She felt her face turn hot once more. 

“Thank you as well, Annika. You have become a great help to me, and I appreciate the work you’re doing.” He placed his hand on her shoulder, close to her neck. His index finger gently rubbing in one spot, almost soothingly; she suddenly felt like she could fall into his eyes again, like she had felt in the car the other day. But then abruptly, he pulled back, recoiling. His face looked as though he’d touched something horrifically painful. Before Annika could ask what had happened, or if he was even okay, he turned on his heel and left, walking down the stairs and taking them two at a time. She watched him go, curious and slightly alarmed, listening as his footsteps faded and headed out the main doors onto the street. She shut the front door quickly, jostled by the jarring and abrupt departure. She went to the open window and saw a masked man holding open the car door for him. He slid inside and door shut with a heavy  _ clunk _ . The car's engine started, and it sped off into the night, disappearing amongst the other commuters making their way home. Annika ran her hands up her neck. Wondering what in the world could have hurt or startled him like that. But she had to admit having him touch her was nice.  _ He’s probably just weird after all _ . She shrugged it off and turned around to warble into the kitchen and put the flowers in water. She reached down with her right hand to grab the bouquet, and with her left still lingering on her neck her fingers felt something: the silver chain to the crucifix she’d put on earlier. Her eyes widened and she found herself staring down at the flowers, unblinking. 

“Vampires can’t stand silver,” she whispered darkly, her hand gripping the bouquet far too tightly. She stood like that for a long moment, feeling a cold sweat break out. She tried to tell herself she was an idiot, reminding herself of what Siv had said: it was all folklore, myth. She shook her head, trying to reason with herself, but as she walked to the kitchen, she caught the box of paperwork out of the corner of her eye. She realized for a split second that Copia hadn’t just walked in—he had waited to be invited in. Annika leaned against the wall, sliding down it until she hit the floor, the flowers still clutched in her hand. She spent the next hour desperately telling herself this was all imagined and that perhaps she really did need an MRI. 


	9. Questionable Sanctuary

_ Sweden _

_ October 21st, 2016 _

_ 9:49 PM _

“All that time spent waiting for the doctor and you’re perfectly fine after all.” Siv said loudly as they walked through the front door of their building. “I guess now we know you’re really working for a vampire, huh?” She smirked, elbowing Annika in the ribs lightly as she passed her to walk ahead. Annika rolled her eyes; she hadn’t told Siv about the incident with the silver chain, nor how Copia had to be invited inside the apartment. She had kept those two items of information to herself. She grabbed the railing and began to walk up the stairs, one at a time. 

“Ha. Ha. You’re very funny, you know. But looks aren't everything, Siv.” Annika said softly, mockingly, a mischievous smile spread across her face. Siv turned around and looked at the other woman. 

“Wow, you’re so witty! Where’d you learn that from? What a great piece of humor you’ve acquired.” She smiled with a broad, beaming, sarcastic smile. They both simply laughed; jibing each other was a staple of their friendship and had been for years. They chatted casually as they walked up the six floor walk up building. Annika, taking the stairs carefully, was still unsure if she would fall backwards or not, despite the doctor telling her everything was fine. Siv took the last set of stairs quickly, jumping up them two at a time, but stopped just as she reached the landing. 

“What the fuck is this?” She whispered harshly as she approached their door. 

“What's wrong?” Annika asked, following up close behind. Siv gestured to the front door of their apartment: it was closed but just barely. The frame of it was broken out and the locks were in shambles, small pieces of wood were flaked off and on the ground. Siv pushed the door open and it swung wide, unnaturally so; the door handle bouncing off of the wall, the sound echoing throughout the hall. Inside, the apartment looked like a tornado had been through it: clothes on the floor, mail rifled through and scattered about, pictures were removed from the walls and down on the ground; their was glass broken and scattered everywhere, the television was knocked off its stand and even the cushions of the couch were pulled up haphazardly. As Annika stared inside, her mouth hung open. Siv pulled her phone out and dialed the police, wandering back down the stairs as she did so. 

Annika walked inside quietly and gingerly. It was awful looking. She walked past the bookshelf, wherein all the books had been pulled down onto the floor into a pile, and she made her way past the couch and to the pictures which had been hung with care on the wall. She looked down at them, under her feet the sound of broken glass crunching as she bent down to retrieve one of the photos. 

“The police are on their way. You really should come out of there.” Siv said, tip toeing into the unit. “This is terrible. What a mess, ugh. Do you see anything missing?” She asked, now beginning to poke around herself, looking through the books piled up at the foot of the shelf. Annika sighed. 

“No, nothing missing, so far anyway. Just broken pictures over here.” Her words were small and few, her eyes glued to the photo of herself at age 10 with her parents, in that same photo Copia had inquired about. She pocketed the photo. 

“I don't think I can stay here tonight.” Her face was pale, her lips pressed together tightly, a knot quickly forming in her stomach. Siv was walking into the kitchen, assessing damage as she went. 

“Yeah, I don't think I can either, if I’m being honest. I’m going to call my mom. I’m sure she won’t mind if you stay with us.” Siv yelled from the kitchen. Annika could hear Siv’s voice as she talked on the phone; it was muted and distant from around the corner. Annika bit her bottom lip, thinking about the photo in her pocket. Siv hung up her phone as the sound of heavy footfalls approached from up the stairs in the hall; the crackling sound of radios and chatter echoed throughout. Siv greeted the police at the door but Annika’s mind was drifting: thinking of something else entirely in her shocked state. Siv showed the officers in and they began to write things down and photograph everything. Siv came up from behind Annika and placed a hand on her shoulder, shaking her. 

“Hey, we gotta go now. The police are here.” Her fingers lingered on Annikas shoulder for a moment but Annika simply nodded and followed Siv out; her eyes locked onto the floor the whole time. They walked out into the hall where they were greeted by an officer. He asked them both a myriad of questions. They both either agreed or disagreed. Annika was very quiet, staring at the floor the whole time, thinking of the picture in her pocket. The officer finally informed them that they’d investigate it, though they did say that the chances of catching anyone were slim. Annika and Siv both nodded silently. Siv shook the officer’s hand and thanked them, informing them of her phone number and the fact that they wouldn’t be staying in the apartment that night. 

“My mom hasn't texted me back or called.” Siv said idly, looking at her phone as the officer walked off to the open door of the wrecked apartment. “I’m going to call her again, we shouldn’t just show up you know? I feel like that would be rude.” She smirked. Annika said nothing but nodded. Siv walked downstairs to call another time. Now left alone with her thoughts, Annika began to wander down the hallway, away from the stairs and to the window at the end of the hall, down by another unit. The owner of which was not at home, the lights inside off. She felt the photo in her pocket and quickly reached for her phone in the other. Pulling it out, she went to her contacts and pulled up the number she was looking for. The phone rang loudly in her ear; she felt hot all over and she kept turning around and looking down the hallway, looking for Siv. She began to pace, tucking one arm under the other, biting her bottom lip tightly between her teeth. The phone rang and rang and rang. She closed her eyes and muttered, praying that someone would answer. 

“Emeritus Church.” A gravelly, harsh voice finally said on the line. She swallowed, subconsciously, closing her eyes as she spoke.

“Hi! This is Annika Nyström, I need to speak with Cardinal-” before she could finish the voice on the other end of the line spoke up, the sound was rigid and unnatural. 

“Hold.” She was placed on hold with no music, once again constantly worrying if she’d been hung up on. Finally the phone picked up. 

“Annika?” The voice on the other end was familiar and she couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. 

“Hi! I’m really sorry to bother you, I hope you weren’t busy?” She asked discreetly, lowering her voice as she continued to turn around and look down the hallway, watching for Siv’s inevitable return. Officers in uniforms milled about and moved in and out of the unit with ease, carrying notepads and taking photographs; their voices were soft as they spoke amongst themselves. 

“No, no, I wasn’t busy. I was going through the box of the— well no matter what I was doing, are you well?” His voice was warm, warmer than it had ever been on the phone. She turned away from the officers walking in and out of her unit and faced the window at the end of the hall, it overlooked the garden in the back. 

“So,” she closed her eyes as she spoke, her words were soft and hurried. “This is such a mess and it's a long story but someone broke into my apartment and I can’t stay here. My roommate said I could stay with her and her mom? But I really don’t want to do that, her mother lives way outside of the city and it would be a major pain in the ass for me to get to work and” she drew in a sharp breath, the air whistling slightly through her clenched teeth. “I was actually wondering if I could stay at your Church?” She almost whispered the last bit, gritting her teeth together even tighter as she waited for a response. The line on the other end sounded dead. She opened her eyes, for a split second she was left wondering if he’d hung up. Finally, she heard movement on the other end, then a loud bang, as though a door was being slammed. 

“You did not answer before, so I shall inquire again: are you alright?” His voice was firm but insistent and Annika flashed a small smile, more to herself than anything else. She nodded her head as she spoke.

“Yes, I’m okay, I’m just really incredibly rattled.” She laughed nervously, still looking back down the hallway. “It’s just really alarming, the whole thing is just, it’s terrifying.” 

“I imagine it feels very violating. Having your home broken into and being stolen from.” He said gently, a distant tapping noise coming from his end of the phone; she imagined he was playing with a pen, tapping it against the wooden grain of his desk. Annika simply nodded, her ear pressed to the phone as she gazed down the hallway at the continued police presence. 

“Well yes, I mean, it is violating!” She gave a sarcastic laugh. “But the creepy thing is that it doesn't look like anything was taken. It’s just a mess. Everything strewn about and thrown all over and toppled. But nothing seems gone.” She sighed, becoming suddenly inarticulate and dull. On the other end of the line the sound of tapping had stopped. Copia was silent. She could hear nothing though, no breathing, no tapping: it was as though the line was dead, but she could feel him there on the other end. He finally spoke, his voice was low but forceful, as though this was of the utmost paramount importance. 

“I will send a car to collect you. They can be there in twenty minutes or less if I send them now. Do not leave with anyone, do you understand? Do not go with your roommate to her mother’s. Stay in your building for the vehicle and my driver. Wait for my driver to collect you from the building.” His voice was hard and assertive, every word clipped and meaningful. She looked once more down the hallway and saw Siv walking up the stairs, on her phone. She was talking to someone: milling outside their units door as she did so. Annika licked her lips. 

“Why? I mean, why the urgency? You sound pressed.” She turned away from Siv and stared out the window into the dark garden once more. 

“Annika, when someone breaks into your home and doesn't take anything they aren't there for  _ things _ . They have another, darker, purpose. I will explain more once you arrive: my driver is en route. Do not leave with anyone else, do you understand me?” Annika nodded. 

“Yes, I understand. I’ll wait by the door.” She spoke quickly, watching as Siv approached, hanging up her phone and shoving it into her pocket as she did so. 

“Very well. I shall see you soon.” And with that, he hung up and the line clicked off. Annika pulled her phone away from her ear and looked at its black screen. She swallowed, pushing her phone into her pocket. Siv approached quickly, walking down the hall with some speed. Annika looked up, forcing a smile.

“My mom said it's cool, you can come with me and stay with her until this shit gets blown over.” She gestured to the cops still wandering in and out of the unit behind her with a jerk of her thumb. Annika nodded and then pulled her phone back out, pretending to check her messages. 

“Oh, actually, I’m going to be staying with a friend whose closer to the city center. I really appreciate your mom letting me stay though, it's just she lives so far out, you know?” Annika pulled her face into a grimace, sliding her phone back into her pocket. Siv did not nod, nor did she smile, she simply stood still for a moment before speaking. 

“Who’s the friend?” She asked, her voice even and firm. The other sounds in the hall seemed to drown out as Siv spoke. Annika’s eyes skittered around the hall for a moment. But before she could answer Siv let a knowing smile spread across her face. “You’re going to stay at the creepy dude’s Church, aren't you? You are! First you let him in our house and now this? Come on, really?” Siv’s voice rose an octave, she began to pace in a circle; shaking her head back and forth, her arms crossed over her chest. Annika wrung her hands together, her brow furrowed. 

“He’s not that creepy! He’s just...weird. But that is not a crime and it doesn't make him evil.” As she spoke felt herself getting angry, her jaw set, her teeth grinding together. Siv shook her head. 

“There's something wrong there, Annika. I’m telling you. Please come and stay with my mom and I.” Siv looked up at her friend, their eyes locked for a moment before Annika looked away, turning back towards the window behind her; her gaze stuck on the darkened garden down below. She ran her tongue over her teeth for a moment. 

“I know you think he’s weird and creepy, but I have to get to the bottom of,” she shook her head, “whatever this is.” She turned around and faced the other woman. “And honestly? I would feel a lot safer with big stone walls around me, than your Mom’s small, easily accessible home in the middle of nowhere, Siv and that's just the truth of it.” They stared at one another for a moment. Siv nodding slowly, pushing her hands into her pockets; the silence around them seemed to fall like rain. 

“Alright well, I understand that. Both points, really. If you get...uncomfortable, for whatever reason. Call me, okay?” Siv gave Annika a languid, soft smile and with that she turned on her heel and walked off down the hallway, past their unit and the officers still moving in and out of it. Soon she was out of eyesight and earshot, and Annika let go of the breath she was holding. Only to suddenly remember the car that had been sent and now rushing down the hall and to the stairs, worried that she may have missed it. As she stood in front of the glass door, which opened onto the sidewalk outside, she remembered what Copia had said and she stood just inside; waiting. 

She pushed her hands into her pockets, scuffing her shoe at a mark left on the wooden floors of the lobby. She paced back and forth: from one wall to the other, then from the mailboxes to the door, back and forth, back and forth. Finally, along the curb outside, the bright white LED headlights of Copia’s car pulled up: they moved across the sidewalk as the wheel turned, the lights turning in their sockets with the driver's movement of the wheel. The lights did not turn off, but the vehicle did come to a complete stop. Annika watched, biting her lip, turning around and listening for the sound of any descending officer from above, but no such sound came. A masked man in all black approached the door and Annika walked out to meet him. He bowed halfway to her, gesturing towards the vehicle silently and she simply followed form, by now knowing the routine. 

It was cold outside; the wind howled through the trees and the comfort of the backseat of the car was welcoming. The door shut with a heavy clunk, as it always did, and Annika found herself staring vacantly out the window; her hands clenched together tightly in her lap. A piece of her doubted her own decision, if for only a moment. She thought about what she was doing, about what Siv had said, the evidence that had pointed to the Cardinal possibly being off: to Lennart possibly being right. But as she stared out the window, watching the city dwindle behind her, all she could think about was that night in her apartment. How he had admitted he’d been raised by the Church, his family never known to him; she knew he wasn’t lying. She shifted uncomfortably in her heated seat, the seat belt restraining her movements. 

As the outside world grew darker and darker and the countryside loomed closer, she found herself making idle promises to herself. Promises to ask him about the truth, everything that had bubbled in her mind, she wanted to know about the maps and the initials on them; why did he lie about where he was from and why in the world would he have that book about vampirism? She bit her thumb between her front teeth, her knee jiggled nervously as the vehicle pulled into gravel driveway of the Church. She watched out the window as the large building loomed out in front, the car pulling around to the front door, as it always did. There, by the doors was Copia, standing straight backed as ever, his eyes watching somewhere beyond the vehicle. 

The large black sedan came to a stop with a gentle squeal of its brakes and the transmission could be heard shifting into park. Copia reached for the door handle and pulled it open, allowing the cold air to rush into the warm vehicle. Annika stepped out, her arms folded across her chest. She ignored Copia’s hand, which had been held out towards her, attempting to aid her in getting out of the vehicle. But she simply shrugged it off and gave him a slow, sad smile. He stared at her with a vexed expression on his face, holding his arm out towards the interior of the large building. They both walked in silence, side by side, up to another level she had never been on before. Suddenly she stopped in the middle of a tight hallway and Copia turned around, his brow furrowed, his hands clasped behind his back. 

“Are you well, Annika?” His voice was soft, almost a gentle whisper as he walked back towards her. She sniffled once, twice, and then her face pulled into a grimace; her cheeks felt hot and she hung her head, her hands coming up to cover her eyes. 

“I’m so scared.” She said heatedly and rushed; she was crying, her face tear stained. Copia stood next to her, though he did not make any move to touch her or comfort her. He simply stood nearby and tilted his head this way and that. “Why in the world would someone do this? They didn’t even take anything! They just broke in and fucked the place up. Turned over every cushion on the couch, they pulled all the books off the shelf and look,” she pulled the picture of her parents out of her pocket, “they knocked all my photos off the wall. As if to add insult to injury! Why bother doing that?” She whispered that last past, it was under her breath and almost sticky sounding with the way she was crying. She kept rubbing her eyes with her hands. “I’m sorry, I just, it all came rushing in when I walked up these steps with you. It’s like it just hit me like a wave. I didn't mean to dump this on your doorstep.” She spoke quietly, sniffling as she did. Copia nodded silently for a moment and then, tentatively, reached up and placed a gloved hand on her shoulder; she looked up at him directly in the eyes. 

“There is nothing I can say to make you feel any better, Annika. I can only offer you somewhere to go so you can feel safe.” He broke eye contact with her to look at the ground for a moment before continuing. “But I am terribly apologetic about what has happened.” As he spoke he ran a gloved hand along her shoulders and she found herself leaning into his touch. Finally, folding in against him, pressing her hands and her face against his chest. She cried and he simply stood there, eventually his humanity getting the better of him, and he wrapped his arms around her, rocking her back and forth for a moment. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get your cassock all wet and gross.” She laughed awkwardly, finally pulling away a little bit. His hands slid down and rested on her forearms. He smiled at her. 

“It’s perfectly alright. You’ve had your home violated and you feel unsafe, it is a natural response to such an aggressive and violent act.” His words were logical and reasonable, though they were cold. Annika nodded and started to pull away, but Copia held his arm out to her and she smiled, taking it. He walked her to the room that was waiting for her, telling her that it was safe and that he’d reserved it just for her.  He reminded her that a warm bath and a bed had been made ready for her, if she wanted it . She chuckled, still wiping her tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. 

“Yeah and an eight story climb from the ground, I don't think thats something any intruder is going to want to do.” She chuckled. Copia furrowed his brow at that comment as they continued to walk. 

“What do you mean?” He asked. She shrugged. 

“Well, whoever broke into our apartment just went in through the front door, the locks were all smashed to pieces and the door frame was physically broken apart. They had obviously shouldered it down. I doubt anyone would try to climb six stories to get to my apartment, let alone eight here.” She laughed again. Copia said nothing and he simply hummed. 

“Yes, who would climb that many stories. That is curious indeed.” He attempted to sound puzzled but he knew exactly what had happened and why, and his concern for her safety grew by leaps and bounds. He did not question it further, but instead tried to make pleasant small talk with her, attempting to get it off her mind. She continued to wipe the tears from her eyes, her cheeks now flushed and red and streaked with tear stains. But he didn’t notice, he was too busy worrying about what might happen when he left her alone in the dark of night. 


	10. Full Disclosure

_ Sweden _

_ October 21st, 2016 _

_ 11:11 PM _

“So, where am I going to be staying?” Annika asked as they walked along the corridors; though, looking around, she noticed that they were close to Copia’s office. He smiled, staring at the ground as he walked. 

“I wanted you to feel as safe as you could feel, so I arranged for you to stay in the guest suite of my quarters.” He stopped smiling and opened his mouth as if to say something, only to stop walking and turn to her. His gaze locked onto hers, watching the way her still-puffy, tear-stained face stared back at him. “Though, in truth, I probably should have asked you if you were..._comfortable_...with this. I apologize, as that did not cross my mind. If you’re not, I’m sure I can-” Annika held her hands up, waving them back and forth in the air slightly as a smile found its way onto her face. 

“No! No, it’s alright. This is actually,” she tilted her head back and forth as she searched for words, “this is probably a better idea. I don’t think I’d want to be somewhere unknown right now.” She looked down at the floor, her hands wringing together as she spoke. Copia nodded silently and gestured to the door in front of them. They walked towards it, Annika now in tow behind him. He produced a key from his pocket, and it fit into the door’s lock perfectly, clicking in place with a comforting sound. The door swung open with no sound, as though the joints and gears were well-oiled and cared for, despite its obvious age. Copia stepped out of the way and bowed his head slightly, extending his arm and allowing Annika in before him. 

“After you,” he said quietly. She gave a tired smile and walked inside, soon followed by Copia, who closed the door behind them both with a gentle _ click_. The hallway was wide and opened into a large, expansive room: there was no kitchen though, which Annika admitted, was curious.

“This is the en suite.” Copia gestured to his right, a door stood open: it led into a small room with a large bed in it; the sheets pulled down and the fireplace crackling away delightfully. The bed was covered in pillows, and at the foot was another blanket, folded up neatly. Copia cleared his throat as he stood at the threshold of the bedroom. “I had housekeeping come and put on new sheets for you, turn the blankets down, and start a fire. The pillows are all fresh from the laundry room as well.” He stood there with his hands tightly clasped together in front of him. She nodded silently, tucking an errant strand of hair nervously behind her left ear. 

“Thank you.” She turned to him, her eyes downcast to the floor. “You didn’t have to do all this. I was just expecting a bed somewhere in a dorm, like with those nuns.” She shrugged, letting out a huff of a laugh. Copia smiled at her; it was a slow smile. They fell into silence, though it was not awkward or uncomfortable. 

“Should you need anything, I will be down the hall. Until about 4:25 AM, then I must rest.” He began to close the door and walk away, but Annika stopped him, her hand on the door handle. She opened her mouth to say something but ended up letting out a sigh, staring at him for a moment. She ran an idle hand through her blonde hair, letting it fall through her fingers. Copia stared back at her, and the silence between them could have been cut with a knife. Finally, she let go of the door handle. 

“May I ask you a super rude question?” Her voice was tight, but Copia nodded. She turned away from him and faced the fireplace; her face felt hot but she felt like she was floating on ice: uncertain and afraid. She closed her eyes as she spoke. “What is the disease you have? You told me about it a while ago, but you never gave it a name. What is the medical name for what you have?” She turned to him, her eyes open, her hands shoved into her pockets tightly. She watched him closely as he lingered in the doorway. He looked down the hallway for a moment, as though he were expecting someone. But there was no one there, and he sighed, leaning back into the room and took a step in, closing the door behind him. He walked slowly over to the ornate, hand-carved wooden bench that sat at the foot of the bed; its beautiful dark red cushion, studded with small designs that were gold in color, contrasted well with the black of his cassock as he sat down on it. His feet were planted firmly on the ground, his knees apart as he leaned back against the foot-board of the bed; his gloved hands neatly folded in his lap. Annika stood there and stared at him: waiting. He cleared his throat, his face slightly obscured by the shadows cast off by the burning fireplace, the only light source in the room. 

“In history and folklore, it has many names.” His voice seemed to creak as he spoke. “But to your doctors and scientists, it would be termed a myth for the exception of one name: a syndrome more than a disease though, a behavioral syndrome.” He did not move as he spoke. Every word seemed to crawl its way out of his mouth, as though it hurt to speak about. Annika pulled her hands from her pockets and held them, palm side up. 

“I’m sorry, if this is too painful, I don’t want you to-” Copia held up his hand, silencing her. She couldn’t see his eyes well in the dark and was unsure if he had them closed or open. 

“You asked the question and, to be blunt, you are a bit too deep into the frying pan to consider getting out now.” His voice was cutting and clear, and this time she could see his eye glinting in the shadows, the light just enough to bounce off the whites of his eyes: he was watching her from under a heavy, unblinking stare. Annika furrowed her brow, nodded, but said nothing as he continued. “In today's time it is known as Renfield's Syndrome.” He grew quiet and watched her face as it went slack. Her eyes flitted around the room in thought, her teeth suddenly clenching down onto her bottom lip. 

“Renfield’s Syndrome? Like, the character, Renfield?” Copia nodded his head silently. “Renfield as in-” 

“R.M. Renfield, yes, from Bram Stoker's _ Dracula_. I believe it was published in 1897? I have an original copy around here somewhere.” His voice rose an octave for only a moment as he tried to recall where that item was before it returned to the deep raspy sound it had taken on earlier. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees; his gloved hands steepled in front of him. The shadows from the fireplace weren’t as high now, and Annika could see his eyes were still unblinking, focused solely on her. She suddenly felt very exposed and vulnerable. 

“I’ve never heard of it.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Is that why you sleep during the day? Is it like a metabolism thing?” He nodded.

“You could say that, yes. It does have an impact on my...dietary restrictions.” He tilted his head back and forth playfully in a way she’d never seen him do before. It was alarming: she laughed awkwardly and unexpectedly, her hand quickly jumping up to her lips, covering her mouth. She could feel the blood leaving her face; it felt like every drop of it was falling to her feet. He stared at her from across the small space in the room, over top the well-cared-for and expensive Turkish rug covering the hardwood floors. 

“Was that a joke or are you serious?” She stared at the floor, feeling light headed. 

“I am very serious.” His voice was a hard whisper. Annika closed her eyes briefly as she spoke.

“So, I found a book.” Every word that came out of her mouth simply fell breathy and soft into the air. “I found a book in your office. A book with an Ankh on the cover. I know what Ankh’s are, and I know what they represent.” She swallowed, hard and audibly; her hands were beginning to sweat. Copia did not move: his elbows still resting on his knees, his feet still planted firmly on the carpeted floor, his vision still straight ahead. 

“And whatever do they represent, Annika?” His voice wasn’t mocking, but rather it was testing, prodding, prying: it wanted to know. It was begging. She pressed her lips together for a moment, her eyes roving upwards towards the ceiling as she thought. 

“The Ankh is Egyptian: it represents Sekhmet.” She rubbed the sweaty palms of her hands on her jeans as she spoke, a nervous tick. “She was seen as a goddess of war but was a blood sucking goddess. That's why people worshiped her so much: they didn't want to be eaten.” 

“And?” In the darkness she caught his left eyebrow lifting just enough, questioning her further. She drew in a deep breath and continued to wipe her palms on her pants, attempting to dispel the horrible, heavy weight on her from his seemingly never ending gaze. 

“Sekhmet was always shown with the Ankh, which was also used to represent, like, eternity or something. Which is why so many Egyptian kings and queens are shown to have the Ankh pressed to their lips, like a-” 

“Like a breath of eternal life?” He cut her off, finishing the last bit for her. She nodded vigorously and sharply, looking down at her hands uncomfortably. Every breath she took was tight and restrictive. She ran a hand through her hair again, her fingers gripping at her scalp. Neither of them said anything for a long moment—Copia sitting perfectly still and Annika awkwardly running her hands along her thighs. 

“So, was my boss right?” she croaked. Copia’s eyebrow rose once more as he tilted his head unnaturally fast. Annika looking at the floor, closing her eyes. “He was, wasn’t he?” 

“About...?” Copia’s words were low. She sighed.

“He told me you all were a cult. Like, a dangerous one.”

“All cults are dangerous, Annika.” He smirked. 

“No, I mean, I know that.” She held her hands up, almost in defense. “As in, you’re going to hurt me. Or _ worse_.” Her words were so soft that a human being would barely be able to hear them over the crackling of the fire. Copia heard her though, he heard her and then hummed as he stood up quietly and clasped his hands behind his back: taking one, two, three steps towards her, his shoes crunching down onto the tightly-woven Turkish rug. Her gaze was riveted on his approaching figure, the shadows from the room darkening across his face as he came nearer. 

“I enjoy you, Annika. I do.” He reached up and took her right hand in his left, rubbing her fingers with his thumb. “It is not a secret that I have enjoyed working with you and that I appreciate and take pleasure in all the conversation you’ve had to offer. Of course, I also appreciate all the help you’ve been to my collection and my peace of mind.” His words were plain and to the point, his thumb still rubbing her fingers idly. She stared at his hand still holding hers, and she said nothing, nor did she nod—her gaze glued to his gloved hand. She let out the breath she had been holding and pulled her hand away, walking over to the far bookshelf, staring at the books, her eyes roving over the spines but not reading them. 

“So what do you want?” She turned around to him, her arms crossed over her chest, defensively. “Do you want to...turn me into whatever the hell your last assistant was when I met him? Or, _ what_?” Her voice was beginning to rise in her fear and anxiety; her eyes were wide and glossy. Her whole body felt cold, and her mouth was dry. Copia let out a sigh. 

“Her name was Birgita. She was everything her name meant: vigor, virtue, beauty. She was intelligent. Easy to talk to. A good listener. She had gorgeous hair—you could just run your hand right through those thick, blonde curls.” A smile skittered across his features as he spoke, but it faded just as soon as it appeared. “But, I had to walk away. I had to...walk a different path. A path that led into the night, and I knew she couldn’t, _ wouldn’t_, follow me. Not willingly anyway.” He sighed again, a sad expression in his eyes as he watched the flames dance in the fireplace in front of him. Annika now turned to look at him, her fingers digging tightly into her arms which were still crossed over her chest defensively. 

“What happened to her?” Annika asked quietly, her voice a gentle sound in the dark room. Copia sighed and leaned against the edge of the large bed. His arms crossed over his chest, his head down. He chuckled darkly for a moment. 

“Well, she’s gone now: delivered up to time. She was 21 when I met her. That was in 1862, so…” His voice trailed off and he looked up at Annika, licking his bottom lip as he made eye contact with her. 

“How did she die?” Annika said. Copia simply shrugged. 

“I do not know. I imagine old age? I hope old age. I hope she died with all her children and her grandchildren around her. I hope she wasn’t alone or scared. I hope she was warm in her bed. I hope she believed someone special was waiting for her beyond the veil.” A sad smile lingered on his face for a moment. Annika nodded. 

“I hope so, too,” she whispered. “I’m sorry that...I don’t know what I’m sorry for, really...but I’m sorry.” Copia shrugged. 

“It’s been so long, it doesn't bother me anymore. Like sand through my fingers, really.” He stood up, pulling himself away from the bed and walked carefully over to Annika. He held out his gloved hand to her. Her eyes skittered from his hand to the books on the shelf next to her. “You don’t have to take it,” he whispered, his voice a deep gravelly thing. She furrowed her brow and looked up at him, locking eyes with him. 

“I always feel like I can fall into your eyes,” she said, almost without thinking. Copia smirked. 

“Birgita used to say the same thing. You know, you lasted longer than she did. You don’t succumb as quickly as she did. I like that.” His pupils seemed to widen and become darker, almost like a cat’s eyes. Annika nodded mutely. Her words came out slightly slurred, but she shook her head and closed her eyes, then spoke again, this time clearer and to the point. 

“Don’t try to...don’t try any games with me like that. I don’t want to get hurt, and I don’t want to die, Copia. I’m very scared of you right now, but I’m trying to hear you out, alright?” Copia bowed his head slightly. 

“I understand. But know that,” he looked up at her quickly, taking her hand in his slowly, “I would never hurt you. If you asked it of me, I would let you leave.” Annika nodded sharply, her eyes falling to the floor once more. She stared at the hem of his cassock for a moment. 

“I don’t want to leave though.” She licked her lips, her eyes bounced around the room for a moment as a bizarre laugh crawled its way up out of her throat. “I don’t know why, but I’ve always felt safe around you. Even my roommate tried to get me to stop working here; she tried to tell me you were dangerous, and yeah, at first I was scared but...I kept coming to work. There was always something about you that just,” she bit her bottom lip for a moment, her eyes locking onto his, “seemed safe and secure. I will admit, though, that you are kind of weird.” She smiled at him with a genuine and warm smile. He smiled back at her, raising his eyebrows as he did so. 

“I have been accused of worse.” They both stood standing in front of each other for a moment, wrapped in silence. Annika nervously pushed her hair back behind her ears before she spoke, effectively breaking the heavy silence.

“So, it’s real then? It’s not like...actually Renfield's Syndrome, it’s-” Copia’s tight nod of his head was enough for Annika to stop speaking. Her brow becoming furrowed, she shook her head, her blonde hair hanging loosely and framing her troubled face. “I want proof.” Her voice was hard and terse. Her eyes were like burning coals. “If I’m going to believe you, I want real, physical proof. Proof that I can see with my eyes, that it isn’t just a psychological or behavioral thing that I may or may not ever really see.” Her mouth became a thin line, her fingers tightly woven together in front of her. Her knuckles were white with the grip she was exerting. Copia said nothing but drew in a breath through his nose; his hands now clasped together behind his back. The fireplace was the only sound anymore: the gentle crackling of the flames was the backdrop of the room as he looked down at the Turkiush rug beneath his feet. He tilted his head to the left and right, thinking. Finally, he looked up at her after obvious deep thought about her request. She still stood there, gripping her hands together; knuckles still white with the pressure. 

“I could...show you something substantial,” he said quietly; he watched her, and his pupils seemed darker than the night itself. She stared straight ahead at them, simply nodding and biting her lip: waiting. He took several slow steps towards her, and in the darkness of the room, his face became slightly obscured as he drew nearer. He was close enough now that if she had raised her hands, she could have placed them on his chest. But instead she stood firmly, desperately trying to keep her bottom lip from quivering. Nothing more was said as the room seemed to close in around her. She heard, more than saw, his tongue running along the front of his teeth. He looked up at the ceiling as he did so, as though he were in deep concentration. Annika’s hands gripped each other tighter, and her face pulled into a grimace as she watched. She said nothing but bit her bottom lip again, watching in utter fascination. Suddenly, he stopped and looked down at the floor: his eyes were unnaturally wide for a moment before he opened his mouth and a sound that was akin to a joint cracking broke through the silence of the room. He rolled his head back for a second and then ran his tongue over the front of his teeth again. This time making a satisfied humming noise and looked up at her, directly staring into her eyes. 

“What are you doing?” she whispered urgently. He smiled, chuckling, and for the first time she noticed something she realized she’d never seen before: his teeth. She squinted at them. They were perfectly shaped in nice neat rows and pearly white in color. But above the main row of teeth that even she had, were two larger teeth that she couldn’t quite see in the dark. It was then that he noticed her looking. He held his hands up and removed his gloves, tossing them onto a chair that sat empty behind her, crammed in the corner. He held his hand out to her, and she looked between his hand and his face a few times before finally placing her own in his. She gasped, withdrawing her hand sharply, holding her fingers in her other hand and looking at them with disbelief. 

“You’re..._ cold_,” she whispered harshly, her eyes narrowing as she spoke. A feeling arose in her, urging her to run. But she couldn’t force her feet to move. He tilted his head slightly to the left, still holding his hand out to her. He didn’t move at all. 

“As I told you earlier, Annika, you are a bit too deep into the frying pan.” His eyebrows rose as he gestured to her with his outstretched hand once more. Every breath she took raced through her and seemed to quake as it came tumbling out. But in the end, all she could do was nod her head and place her hand in his as he walked her over to the bench that sat in front of the bed.

“You’re so pale,” she said, looking at his hand, this time turning it over and looking for the veins in the back of his hand. Though, none showed: only the outlines of dry pipes. 

“Yes, and you‘re very warm. If given enough time, and contact, I will...acclimate to your body temperature.” She nodded silently, still looking at his hand in hers. 

“That explains why you always wore gloves then.” She smirked and looked up at him. He smiled at her and again, showed his teeth—now for the second time. Her smile was gone and replaced by a furrowed brow and a concerned gaze; her face pale once more. 

“Is this sufficient physical proof or would you like one more piece of evidence?” His voice was low as he sat up straight, looming over her. She looked up at him and realized he had been speaking almost into her hair from how close they were sitting next to one another. She didn’t move back. 

“I want to know the whole thing. After all, I’m already too far into the frying pan, right?” she said, her voice now steadfast. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he pulled his hand out of her grasp. Silently, he reached up and pushed his lip up and away from his teeth. Her eyes went wide, and she found herself leaning forward against him; pushing him back against the foot of the bed. He chuckled with a deep, resonating sound, leaning backwards only enough for her to see. She stared in disbelief, her mouth hanging open. “Wow,” she whispered reverently. “This has to be an elaborate prank or something, right?” Her eyes were glued on his teeth: the top row was normal, all except for two large fangs that protruded over top from the gum. She was leaning against him, her forearms on his chest, her eyes glued to the sharp teeth in front of her. Hesitantly, she reached up and hovered her index finger above one, only to retract it slowly. The thought crossed her mind that, perhaps, that was not a good idea. 

“Is this a sufficient amount of evidence?” His voice was low, and she nodded mutely. Her eyes still stared straight ahead at his teeth. 

“I just...I didn't think...I guess I just figured it was all folklore and myth, you know? But it's real.” Her words came out as a whisper until she suddenly shook herself, seemingly pulling herself back to reality, though she remained leaning against him. “I, uh...so, what's going to happen to me now?” She looked up at him, her face pale and her fingers gripping his cassock. His eyes bounced around the room for a moment before finally settling on her. He was quiet; he shrugged and reached out to her, cupping her chin in his now warmed hand. He stared at her, his mouth slightly open, his teeth showing. Her eyes were glued to the tips of those upper fangs. She audibly gulped and licked her lips. Their faces were very close as he spoke to her. 

“What do you want to happen, Annika?” Idly, his thumb stroked her jaw. She found herself falling into his eyes again, like she had earlier. She smiled at him, pushing her chin a little further into his hand. 

“I want...more of this. Whatever this is.” She smiled, her cheeks flushed pink. “You said earlier that you enjoyed talking to me, and honestly, I like talking to you, too.” He raised an eyebrow at her, his hand gliding from her chin, along her cheek and to a piece of hair that he neatly tucked behind her ear. 

“Aren’t you terrified? Aren’t you afraid I’ll kill you?” His voice was soft. His eyes were dark pools that seemed to go on forever and ever, and in a way, they absolutely did. Annika stared at him, a slow smile spreading across her face; her fingers began to twirl tight circles into the fabric of his cassock. The room’s silence was deafening for just a moment. Her fingers stopped their movement, and she sat up. She stared at the fireplace in front of her for a moment, sighing. 

“I’m completely terrified, for the record.” She let out a soft, nervous laugh, biting her bottom lip again. 

“As you have every right to be. You have just been told that something you previously thought wasn’t real is, indeed, real, so it only stands to reason that you’d be terrified.” His voice was a gentle, deep whisper. He sat up, leaning a little closer to her. 

“But it’s not a secret: just as much as you enjoy me, I enjoy you.” She rubbed both sides of her face with her hands, her eyes closed. “I’m absolutely scared. Completely and utterly scared to my core, and a piece of me keeps saying that this is all a complete bullshit prank or something, and I should run away right now!” Her eyes were glossy, and she kept rubbing her tongue against her teeth. She sighed, her eyes closing for a moment before continuing. “On the other hand, I have nothing to lose.” She laughed, more to herself than to him; her laughter was bitter and sarcastic. A sad look crossed his face as he leaned back again, his head against his left hand, his elbow resting on the foot of the bed. 

“You have everything to lose though. Your humanity, your mortality, friends, family: that is a tremendous amount of things to cast aside.” His eyes were locked on her for a long moment. 

“Do you regret it?” Her voice was small but cut perfectly to his core. He sighed. His eyes seemed to cut through her as he spoke. 

“Sometimes, yes. There’s a piece of me that wishes I could go back and...never enter that house; thus, never getting the opportunity to become what I am.” He shrugged, a somber, distant smile crossed his face. “But I cannot alter time, Annika. That is a power even beyond my kind.” He winked at her, and she huffed out a laugh, but it was short and hesitant. She rubbed her hands together for a moment, drawing in a shaky breath. 

“I guess I’m still in shock. Maybe it’ll wear off. Maybe I’ll die.” She turned her head and looked at him, opening her mouth for a moment and then closing it again quickly. She looked back down at the carpet. The moments passed by in silence. The only sound now was that of the fireplace, still crackling away, despite the secrets it had heard. Copia reached over to her and tugged on her sleeve, making her turn around and look at him again. 

“You should go to bed. It’s very late. I’m sure you’re exhausted, and I’m sure you need to process what we discussed.” He nodded as he spoke, and Annika nodded right along with him: as though that were the greatest idea in the world. Then she stopped and held her hand out to him, hesitant. He took it without hesitation, and her breath caught. 

“You’re still colder than I am. That’s so weird,” she whispered, a thought more to herself than to him. “I’m safe here, right? Like, I can go to sleep here and be okay in the morning?” He smiled, once more with his teeth showing. 

“Of course. No one will harm you here. Do not worry.” His hand came up to her face, and he stroked her jaw line absently for a moment. She gave him a slow, tired smile; her eyes were heavy, and she found herself reaching up and pushing his hand against her cheek, if for only a moment. He pulled away slowly and went to stand, he bowed to her awkwardly, and she shook her head at him, smiling. 

“That’s still weird. Don’t bow. It’s weird,” she said hurriedly, holding her hands up and waving them slightly back and forth. He grinned widely, his teeth showing again, and she found herself staring at them once more. 

“Still in disbelief or shock?” he asked as he began to walk over to the chair where his gloves were, the carpet crunching under his feet. 

“I’m not sure. I think it’s shock. The evidence is compelling,” she said plainly, though her mouth was a thin, straight line on her face. Her hands were simply folded in her lap now. He made his way back over to the door as she spoke, his gloves shoved rudely into his pockets. He placed his hand on the door handle, turned it, and opened the door into the hallway; a cool breeze came rushing in the room. 

Annika folded her arms over her chest and drew her legs closer together for a moment. She looked up at him, and they both stared at one another for a long moment. She opened her mouth to say something but closed it right away. He tilted his head in interest and gestured for her to continue. She huffed out a sarcastic laugh once more, rolling her eyes; albeit, smiling. 

“It’s a dumb request.” She shrugged. 

“I cannot tell you if it is _ dumb _unless you ask it of me.” He stood in the open doorway, his hands clasped behind his back once more. She sighed, looking up at him as she fidgeted with her hands in her lap. 

“What’s your first name?” Her words were gentle and sincere. He raised an eyebrow at her. 

“That is not a dumb question. Though, I have not been asked that in many, many years.” He smiled at her again, his eyes wide. 

“It’s okay, you know, like, if you don’t want to answer. I understand; I think I understand the mind of someone who's lived as long as you have. I think…” She trailed off, her voice disappearing under the sound of the crackling fireplace and Copia’s deep laughter. 

“My name is Salvatore.” He bowed his head at her. Annika’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. 

“Salvatore? Your last name is Copia. Your initials are S.C.,” she said in quick succession, as though pieces were falling into place suddenly where before there were simply blank spots. “Did _ you _ make the map of Monterano?” She shook her head. “I can’t believe I didn’t make that connection earlier. But I suppose earlier it wouldn’t have crossed my mind,” she whispered. 

“Earlier, it never would have crossed your mind. But, that said, you do need to go to sleep: it is late, and I do not wish to keep you awake all night. You have had a...very traumatic day.” He began to take a step out into the hallway. Annika stood up and ran her hand through her hair. 

“Are you going to be here tonight? I mean, like, in this apartment? These quarters, whatever you call them.” She gestured vaguely to the hallway, and he raised both eyebrows at her, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“I should be, yes. If I have to leave it will probably be momentary, then I will return. But rest assured,” he walked back into the room and placed a hand on her shoulder, letting it run down her arm to her right hand, which he took in his own, “nothing will happen to you here. You’re safe with me.” He pulled her hand up and kissed the back of her hand. She nodded her head silently, biting her bottom lip once more. Finally, he let go of her hand and tipped his head to her and was out the door, closing it behind himself. She listened to his footsteps as they petered away down to the other end of the hallway, and she sat down on the bench at the foot of the bed. She could feel her heart beating a mile a minute, though she wasn’t afraid, despite her brush with death. All she could think about was how cold his lips had been on her hand, and how she should be afraid.

But she wasn’t in the least. 


	11. For All Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is NSFW for two reasons:  
1.) McSexy Times  
2.) There is some blood play, cause you know, there's vampires and stuff
> 
> Anyway, carry on

_ Sweden _

_ October 22nd, 2016 _

_ 2:39 AM _

She had only been seated on the bed for thirty minutes when she heard footsteps pounding by in the hallway. The sound went right by the door to the front entrance of the quarters and then out into the hall, the door slamming behind harshly. That had been over a couple hours ago now and Annika still sat wide awake, straight up on the bed. She had rooted around in the bureau for a few minutes and finally found an old robe, drab in its color and far too big for her, but it suited its purpose. She had put it on and sat down in the middle of the bed in an attempt to process what she’d heard that night. She sat in stunned silence for some time, her hands fidgeting with each other and picking at the beautiful dark red duvet. She wondered where he’d gone and became worried and anxious, now faced with the realization that she was alone in his quarters—unguarded. 

She found herself hopping off the bed and walking over to the door. She pressed her ear to the heavy wooden thing but heard nothing on the other side. She ran her fingers around the handle and the base, looking for a lock. “As if that would stop anyone...” she said quietly as she drew in a deep breath and realized what she was about to say. The fact that she thought it at all was not lost on her. She felt the blood rush from her face once more, and she went back to sit in the middle of the bed. Still too nervous to sleep; too nervous to even close her eyes; too nervous to do anything more than mull everything over in her mind for the one millionth time that evening. She sat in the middle of the bed and waited—though for what, she didn’t know. It was some time before she heard the door to the main quarters open. It must have been thrown open, as it hit the wall behind it with a great force. Annika put her phone down into her lap, her fingers clutching the red duvet tightly. For the first time that evening, she was glad there was no light to turn off, the only light in the room was that of the glowing fireplace. She sat perfectly still and upright in the middle of the bed. Her face was pale as a sheet. The sound of the door closing again with another weighty _ thunk _ echoed through the quarters. Footsteps, heavy and dull in their execution, made their way down the hallway to her door. They paused outside of it and then moved along after a moment. She strained to listen as the footsteps walked by the door and down further into the other room. 

After several moments of silence, she finally gathered the courage to get up and go to the door, pressing her ear to it. She strained to hear anything. The sound of vague cursing and muffled, angry grunting could be heard. She pressed her lips together and placed her hand on the door knob, slowly turning it. The door popped open gently, and it swung open. She looked out into the hallway: it was pitch black. The burning candles in their sconces had all gone out. She gulped, feeling hot and cold at the same time. Her bare feet touching down onto the hardwood floors of the hallway, her arms clinging around her middle as she gingerly stepped out into the hall. She walked close to the wall, almost leaning against it, tiptoeing her way down the tight corridor to a large, open area. As she made her way closer, she could see a burning fireplace with one chair in front of it. It was a large, leather wing-back type; it looked ancient. The leather seemed to be worn on the edges, and just over the edge, she could see the top of someone's head. It was Copia. She stood at the edge of the room, her left hand holding the robe around her closed and the right clinging to the wall, unsure whether to move forward or go back. 

“Still awake I see.” Copia’s voice softly rang through the room, and Annika gulped, closing her eyes for a moment. Nodding her head silently, but then she spoke up, realizing he couldn't see her nodding. 

“Yes,” she whispered meekly, though she did not move towards the chair. 

“Come.” He gestured by lifting his hand and beckoning with his finger. She did as he asked, albeit slowly. She walked carefully to the back of the chair and saw that he was still wearing his black cassock, his feet splayed out, shoes sliding on the hardwood floors. He slumped in his chair, his hand pushed into his hair, forcing it to stick up at odd angles. Annika gripped the back of the chair, her nails picking at the leather. 

“Are you alright?” she asked into the glow of the fireplace. Copia gave a short, harsh laugh. He shook his head, pushing the heel of his hand against his forehead for a moment. 

“I’ll be alright. I hope you were able to get some rest.” His words were slow but sharp; his body motionless. She bit her lip. 

“Sort of, I laid there for a long time. Just thinking, I guess.” She let out a gentle huff of an awkward laugh. She continued to pick at the back of the chair. Copia hummed.

“You have much to think about, I suppose.” His voice became a soft whisper. “Come here, please.” He gestured for her to come around his chair and stand in front of him. She reluctantly did so, her feet sluggishly dragging the rest of her to the side of the chair. Her left arm still clutched around her middle, holding the robe in place. He looked up at her, his eyes seemed black in the darkness, and she looked away, down to the floor. 

“Ah, I apologize that I did not find you adequate bed clothes.” 

“It’s alright, it serves its purpose.” She flashed a forced smile that eventually softened into a real one. She pressed her lips together tightly, watching him closely. His eyes did not leave hers. He pulled his hand out of his hair, shaking it out slightly as he did so and sat up, pulling his legs in. He stared into the fireplace for a moment, his eyes were distant but the look on his face was resolute and firm. Finally, after several tense moments, he jerked his head and patted his leg. 

“Sit down, if you’d like.” She stared at him, a mischievous smile spread across his face, and she looked from him to the fireplace and then to the bookshelf along the far wall all in one swift moment. He gave a deep chuckle. “If you’d like to go back to thinking about it though, absolutely, I understand.” 

“I’m just…” She paused for a moment, her mouth hanging open as she searched for the words. “I’m afraid, I guess.” Her voice became smaller and smaller with every word that fell out of it. Copia nodded his head slowly. 

“As I said earlier, you have every right to be afraid. It makes perfect sense. To be confronted with that which you’ve only heard in folklore and legend, in bed time stories made to frighten you, and yet, here I sit.” He held his hands out, gesturing to himself, only to shrug as his hands flopped back down into his lap. 

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes, you know?” she said as she looked around the room. “I’ve been with men I maybe shouldn't have been with. I let men in who maybe I shouldn’t have let in. I guess…” She sighed. “I just want to see the good in everyone, but I always end up getting burned for it. It sucks, you know?” Her voice was soft, and she could feel her eyes beginning to prickle with the heat of shameful tears. She batted her eyes, trying to get it to stop, but she knew it was a losing battle as she felt the first hot tear streak down her face. She wiped it away with the sleeve of the robe, hoping that he wouldn’t notice in the darkness. But he did notice. 

“I know all about wanting to see the good in people and wanting to believe in them and think they have good intentions. I have fought for a long time with the loss of my own humanity. That's why I like you.” He smiled up at her. “You see the same things I see, and you don’t treat me like...a possession.” He said that last part lowly and darkly. As though he were confessing the greatest hidden secret of his life. “We’ve all made mistakes: I know I have. But I’m willing to do it again and again. I guess that’s really the defining moment of humanity. How willing are you to fuck it up?” He stared at her as he spoke. The room fell into a deafening lull of silence. The fireplace crackled away gently in front of them. Annika stood there, biting her lip, her left arm clenching around her waist tightly. Copia stared at her unblinking, his eyes simply dark pools. The fireplace caused all sorts of shadows to bounce here and there. She said nothing but nodded her head as he gestured to his lap. He raised an eyebrow at her but patted his leg just as she tentatively sat down. She blushed, her cheeks turning crimson red for a moment, even in the dark. Copia watched her neck flush just slightly. 

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he asked quietly as he leaned back into the chair, his left hand on the armrest, fingers drumming on it gently. She shook her head. 

“No, not so hard.” Her voice was small but the smile on her face was constant, as though it were stuck there in that position. He leaned his head back and watched her from under heavy lids. “Where did you go tonight?” she asked gently, her fingers picking idly at the robe she was wearing. “You said you’d be here all night, and well, then you weren’t. I mean, I don't mean to pry, but I just-” he cut her off, smiling up at her. 

“I apologize. I didn’t mean to alarm you. I had a...meeting I needed to attend, and it was with some urgency that I do so.” He gave her a reassuring smile. She nodded solemnly, and the room dissolved into a warm, comfortable silence. After some time, Annika leaned her head onto his shoulder but pulled away abruptly, laughing it off. 

“I’m sorry, you’re just so…” She looked around the room, trying to find words, but he found them for her. 

“Cold? I know. It’s not exactly...romantic.” He chuckled. “But I will warm up to you, given enough time. I know it’s uncomfortable. It’s like touching a corpse.” He placed his hand on his chest, as though he too was uncomfortable touching his own body; as if he’d thought about this many, many times before. Annika drew in a soft breath and held her hand up, placing it over his. 

“You said that with more physical contact, you’ll become warmer, right?” she asked with trepidation. He nodded just the slightest bit, his eyes locked onto her face. She gave a half-hearted grin, leaning her head once more against his shoulder and rubbing the back of his gloved hand with hers. They didn’t say anything to one another, they simply stared at each other for a long time. He knew he shouldn’t, he knew it was a bad idea, he knew deep down that on some level Ferrucio was right. All the same though, he let his hand glide up her thigh and slip slowly under the robe she was wearing. She giggled, pushing her face into his neck. 

“It’s cold!” She playfully pulled away from him, but he rubbed his hand back and forth on her thigh, palm down, then palm up, and soon his hand started to warm to her temperature. Suddenly, it wasn’t so cold. It wasn’t such a sterile feeling. It was warm and welcoming and _ human_. But Copia couldn't stop himself, after everything Ferrucio had told him, he had to know. His voice was low when he spoke, but he kept his hand moving back and forth against her warm thigh, under the robe she wore.

“I, uh, I need to ask you something.” She raised her eyebrows at him, waiting, expectant: her bottom lip clutched between her teeth. His hand continued to move gently up and down her thigh, in slow, methodical movements. “Why haven’t you run away? Why aren’t you...afraid of me?” His voice was tender and delicate, as though the questions he was asking would shatter like glass if he asked them wrong. She curled up just a bit closer to him, her mouth opening and then shutting quickly. Her eyes began to bounce around his face: searching, unsure. She twirled a long piece of blonde hair around her index finger anxiously, pulling her legs up closer, her left arm tightening around her waist that held the robe together. She gave a soft huff of a laugh, looking around the room for a moment.

“I guess...I don’t have anything to lose, and I do genuinely like you: you’re interesting. My greatest flaw is seeing the good in people, so maybe I see too much good where I shouldn't?” She laughed again, rolling her eyes at herself. “I also don’t really have anything out there in the wide world. It’s just...empty.” She looked at him for a brief moment, both of their faces very close together. He surveyed her, his eyes roving up and down her form in his lap. She was very close and very warm, and he could feel himself warming up to her temperature very quickly. 

“I’m not a human being, Annika. You are fully aware of this, yes?” She nodded, a tight smile on her face. 

“I know.” Her voice was small. “But it doesn't stop me from having feelings about you—or for you, rather.” She blushed, her cheeks turning a soft pink. He gripped her thigh a little tighter in his hand, and she couldn't help the soft sigh that escaped her lips. He watched her intently, one eyebrow raised; his eyes were dark, and a shadow seemed to be cast over his features. But the smile on his face was recognizable: Annika had seen it many times before, though not as genuine. She leaned her head against the wing of the chair they were seated in. His head already lulled against the back of it. They simply stared at one another for a long while; Copia’s hand gently running up and down her thigh; the robe carelessly being pushed to the side. She could feel his hand was the same temperature as her now, and when she reached out to touch his neck, her fingers didn’t find a pulse. Instead, she felt that same warmth creeping up from his core. She licked her lips, pressing them together nervously. 

“So, what happens now?” she whispered, the words barely audible. Copia shrugged. 

“That’s up to you.” His words were plain and resolute. His eyes were wide. His hand constantly, gently, moving up and down in a slow, agonizing pattern. She smiled at him, her neck flushing crimson; Copia watched that flash of heat, becoming very tense for a moment. He forced himself to look away briefly, focusing on his hand moving up and down against her very warm thigh. He looked back at her when he felt her hand at his collar, adjusting his cassock. She was biting her bottom lip. 

“I’m nervous.” She laughed. “But…” Her words trailed off as she pulled him in closer. She leaned forward against him, her robe’s lack of a tie forgotten and her two hands now gliding gently along the column of his neck. She pulled him in, but he leaned forward gladly and willingly, their foreheads touching; their noses just barely grazing one another. Annika’s cheeks were bright pink, and it was everything he could do not to act on that. As their noses grazed closer to one another, she sighed, and it was warm—and all he needed for an incentive. He pushed himself the rest of the way towards her, and their mouths pushed together without any grace or subtlety. She gave a soft, moaning laugh into his kiss, her eyes closed as she pulled him closer to her by his collar; the soft reverberation of sound coming from somewhere deep in her throat. There was no decorum in the way he pulled her to him, and there was certainly no politeness in the way he gathered her up in his arms and carried her back to the bed. 

One moment she was in his lap, in a chair by the fire and the next he was shutting the door behind him with the sole of his shoe. It slammed shut with an audible _ clunk_, and she found herself forgetting about the fact that the robe she had on didn’t tie shut. She smiled and laughed into each and every kiss that was planted on her lips and collarbones; his lips lingered on her neck for a moment too long, but she didn’t care. She simply hummed into his ministrations. He unceremoniously plopped her down onto the bed. She bounced gently against the mattress and soon felt his weight on her, his knees on either side of her thighs; their lips still connected. There wasn’t any room for words as she grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled him down to her tighter, closer, and wanting all of him and to hell with the consequences. She ran her fingers up into his hair, gripping it at its roots, and he hissed between his teeth, breaking their kiss for only a moment. She bit her lip, smiling into the crook of his neck. He pulled away, sitting up on his knees, watching her for a moment. He reached up to his collar and began to undo his cassock, the black buttons popping open slowly. He raised an eyebrow at her, his mouth agape as he made eye contact with her. 

“Are you still sure?” he asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “There’s no turning back from here.” His fingers worked the buttons lower and lower, moving with adept speed and skill as though he’d been doing this for years and years and years. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip, her teeth latching on to it as she nodded her head silently. He stopped unbuttoning his cassock for a moment, watching her with dark eyes. The light from the fireplace cast odd shadows across his features: one half of his face was lit by the flames and the other was shrouded in darkness. She could still see the light catching in his eyes. 

“I’m sure,” she whispered. He nodded briskly, his hands going back to the buttons of his cassock. But his hands were soon joined by hers. He glanced down at her, seeing her cheeks flush pink, her mouth had a mischievous smile on it. Her hands followed his. His hands warmed more and more to her touch, their temperatures evening out. He watched her the whole time with his eyes locked on hers as she pulled him out of his clothes. The cassock fell off and down onto the floor, the hat long forgotten and the white button down shirt underneath slowly but surely being opened one button at a time. For a moment, he once more stilled—and she did as well, her fingers slowly running down his chest. She could feel the cold disappearing from his body and being replaced with heat: her own heat. She gulped. Her voice sounded far away and soft. 

“What happens?” She looked up at him, and her eyes were wide. Her lips were parted and pink. He licked his own as he spoke. 

“Like any other time; like being with a human male.” He smirked. “I promise I won’t bite unless you ask it of me.” He leaned forward, nuzzling against her as he did so. His forehead pressed against hers. Her fingertips pushed against his chest, and both her hands were now coasting down from his chest to his stomach, his shirt completely unbuttoned. She could feel it, a low guttural sound emanating from his chest against her fingers. She found she couldn’t look at him; she was too distracted. Her gaze kept trailing down to the hem of his shirt, his belt buckle still latched securely. She felt that white hot nervous feeling creeping back into her throat, but she didn’t want to stop and she certainly didn’t want him to think she did. So with one swift movement, she hooked her index finger into the hem of his pants and tugged on it lightly, playfully. He looked up at her, and they both paused for a moment. He tilted his head this way and that; it was as though he were an animal, observing her for the first time in his forest at night under the full moon. This made her breath hitch in her throat and her face run pale once more, but Annika tugged again at his pants with her index finger. He smiled at her, and it was a slow, knowing smile—something that slid from the darkest depths of time. 

He sat up on his knees and took off his shirt, casting it to the ground with his cassock. He lay back down next to her, coasting a hand up her neck and into her hair. His eyes bounced from her neck to her face, then down her form, still clad in the robe. He looked up at her as his hand glided down from her neck to the piece of fabric gently laying over her collarbone. He pushed it out of his way, his whole hand was flat against her chest as it meandered its way down between her breasts and to her stomach, where it stopped. His fingers lightly tapped the soft flesh there, she stifled a small giggle. They stared at one another for a heartbeat of a moment when he suddenly flipped the robe off of her, letting it fall open to the bed. She didn’t blush. He raised an eyebrow at her. They continued to stare at each other until he broke eye contact and cast his gaze down her naked form. She squirmed under his sight. 

“Trying to distract?” he asked quietly as she pulled at the rest of the robe. 

“No, just-” She fidgeted with the cloth in her hand. “Well, yes. _ Partly_.” For the first time that evening, her cheeks flashed a soft burning pink. He hummed. 

“Move up the bed,” he said roughly and gestured to the head of the bed. She moved swiftly, the robe being pushed to the floor. He crawled up the bed on all fours and loomed over her. She smiled broadly at him as she laid down; her fingers digging into his arms. He sat up, putting his weight on his knees. Instinctively, she drew her hands up, cupping her own breasts, her teeth digging into her bottom lip as she waited. He watched with growing interest as his own hands found his belt buckle with efficiency and began to undo it, the metal clanking quietly against itself as he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. They came off with relative and familiar ease, falling to the floor with the softest of sounds. He crawled back up her form, pressing himself against her. She opened her legs, wrapping them around his calves. She smiled the whole time, her hands running up and down his chest to his neck, pulling him down to kiss her. She pulled back momentarily, her eyes watching his lips closely. Tentatively, she reached up and tugged at his bottom lip.

“Are they in there? I mean, will they cut my tongue or anything?” she wondered quietly, thumbing at his bottom lip. She tried to peer inside, but much to no avail. He chuckled, his tongue reaching out and licking the pad of her thumb. She retracted her hand quickly, a nervous smile spreading across her features as he pushed himself closer to her, his forehead pressing against hers; her legs wrapping themselves higher around his waist. 

“They’re in there, yes. But, they won’t cut you. That’s not how they work,” he answered in a soft, hushed tone. He pushed his lips to hers once more, and she nodded into their kiss. This time simply giving in without question or restraint. Having him wrapped between her legs and flush against her was enough. Annika was done with questions and she was done with worrying and she was tired of thinking about the _ what ifs. _Now, she just wanted to disappear into a stupor of ecstasy. She ran her hands up the back of his neck, feeling the way his skin went from being slightly colder than hers to warm at her touch. She liked that. She liked the immediate effect she had on him. He wasn’t like a flesh and blood human male, and that was fascinating. 

She could feel him pushing himself against her. His chest was rising and falling, but it seemed to be doing so to the same rhythm she set. She didn’t care though; she was done analyzing, and she forced it from her mind. Instead, she ran both of her hands up and down his chest, gripping his shoulders with her fingers tightly; her hands eventually running into his dark hair and gripping it at the roots. He hissed through his teeth at the contact. He pushed against her more, pushing his face into the crook of her neck as he did so. She felt it then: the feeling of his teeth, those needle points, ghosting over her throat. Though, she braced herself for a puncture wound that never came. Instead, he pushed his rock hard self between her folds, gliding it up and down her most sensitive skin with ease and delight. His breathing was still matching hers, and when she panted, so did he. She rolled her head back and sighed, her eyes closing and her fingers losing their grip in his hair. She could feel it though, the rise in heat and pressure. He had said that he would acclimate to her temperature and this was a nice acclimation, she had to admit. He was whispering something in her ear, but she couldn’t quite discern it. 

She tilted her hips just so and soon the rubbing between her legs became an instant push against her most intimate parts. She bit her lip and rolled her head back, giving in to a dance she knew all too well. The heated pressure was nothing compared to the steady inward push she felt as he descended into her. For the first time, his breath was hot in her ear and against her neck. His tongue running up along the shell of her ear, his teeth lightly biting here and there and his fingers winding their way into her hair, gripping it at the roots as he pushed himself up and into her. She pulled her legs up and wrapped them around him, higher and higher. She could feel her pulse quickening and her eyes opening briefly, only to see him above her with darkened eyes and his mouth hanging open obscenely, his tongue was half way lulling out of his mouth as his hips picked up speed. There was a deep thrumming in his chest that she could feel through her open palms, which pushed against him. He lowered his mouth to her ear, and she could hear the sound of his breath mimicking her own. 

She ran her hands up over his shoulders and pushed her fingers into his dark hair, her fingernails digging into his scalp. For the briefest of moments a slow smile spread across his face; his pupils were blown wide, and he was all encompassing. She could feel that constant pounding between her legs, and her eyes continued to roll backwards in her head. Her head pushed back against the pillows, her neck now exposed and undefended. Briefly, in her haze, Annika noticed his lack of sweat. He was warm but had no perspiration. She wrapped her legs around his back now, pulling them up higher. Her hips tilted closer to him, as if that was possible. Her fingers trailed down from his hair back down to his forearms, where she dug her fingertips into him. 

“Are you alright?” he whispered heatedly in her ear, his tongue taking a swipe at her ear lobe. She half giggled and half moaned, her eyes closing momentarily as she nodded enthusiastically to him. He said nothing more but instead picked up his pace. Her right hand slid down between them and began rubbing in a way that only she knew how. She pushed her hips up and then down, and her hand quickened its pace. The feeling of pressure and heat and tightening muscles was everywhere. She bit her bottom lip, clamping it between her teeth tightly until it was white from the lack of blood flow. Her eyes were squeezed shut, and her breath was emerging in heavy, thick breaths. 

Her hand moved quickly, her hips stuttering and shaking, and every breath was shallow and heated. She could hear the softest humming coming from him, from somewhere deep within that she couldn't pinpoint nor could she say what it was. Somehow, he pushed himself closer, his fingers now entwined in her hair. She could feel his nose pushing against her neck as she worked herself into a fervor. The tight coil in her gut was the only thing she could think about now. Her legs clamped down around him, and she felt that surge of pleasure rising up. Her hand went from a frantic pace to a slow one, gently rubbing back and forth after she came down from riding that incredible naturally-given high. 

Finally, she slipped her hand out from between them and ran her hands up his neck, pulling his face to hers: their lips met, their tongues delving into one another's mouths. Annika held his face in her hands, her legs still wrapped around him tightly. He smiled at her as he broke their kiss, only to turn his head to the left and, keeping eye contact with her, run his tongue along the palm of her hand and up her fingers. She shuddered and somehow found herself holding onto him tighter. He pushed his mouth against her neck, peppering it with kisses as he continued to pound into her. Soon she found herself pulling her legs up around his shoulders, and he gladly welcomed it. He propped himself up, his hands hot and heavy and gripping her thighs with only a little too much pressure, she sighed into his heated touch. He stared at her, his mouth hanging open once more; his eyes pitch black now. He spoke to her in a low growl. 

“Do you want…” He trailed off as he plunged into her again, the heat was astounding now as he tried to steady himself. “Do you want everything? Or do you just want this to end here?” He gave a particularly hard thrust which almost knocked the wind out of her. But she found herself smiling all the same, moaning into his ministrations. Her hands resting on top of his. Her mouth felt dry. She ran her hands up his arms and to his chest once more, her palms coasting along his heated skin. She licked her lips as he lowered himself closer to her. His nose brushing hers, his fingers once more in her hair. The sound of the fireplace crackled behind them, but they weren’t paying attention—too lost in their own world to notice. She licked her bottom lip, running her hands up into his hair. He leaned into her touch. 

“What does ‘everything’ mean?” she whispered. He chuckled darkly as he licked along her collar bones to her neck, his tongue gliding up to her ear once more. She shivered. When he spoke his voice was husky and low. 

“Do you want to join me, forever?” Every word out of his mouth seemed to vibrate through every fiber of her very being. It was commanding and terrifying and all encompassing, and all she knew was that she wanted it. He kept up his languid pace, her legs still wrapped tightly around him, locking him in place. His tongue and his lips played a dangerous game along her neck and into her hairline. She pulled his face up to hers and pushed her forehead against his. She let out a soft laugh as she kissed him one more time. 

“Y-yes. I do.” She quivered as she spoke, her fingers digging into his neck gently. She found herself lost in the depth of his eyes once again. He nodded, kissing her deeply. Only to pull away and coast kisses up and down her neck. Her legs clamped down around him once more, and she found herself rubbing her breasts with her own two hands; her eyes rolling backwards in her head again. She felt his lips on her neck, leading a trail down to her collarbones once more, only to meander their way back up and then down and then up again to leave a trail of wet heat. She felt his breath on the shell of her ear. Her eyes were half way closed, her legs clamped around him as she sighed into his shoulder. She pushed herself against him more and more until finally those soft kisses on her neck stopped. The feeling of his tongue working along the sensitive skin there was all she could think about. 

What went from being soft, warm and gentle kisses along the nape of her neck soon turned into a sharp and sudden cut of pain. Her eyes and her mouth opened at the same time in a silent, jolted scream. Her hands scrambled for purchase on his shoulders, pulling him closer. He pushed into her harder and heavier, grunting against her neck. She couldn’t speak and instead she simply hummed against him, her legs readjusting and locking around him once more. She could feel that same thundering pulsation between her legs, and it was everything she could do not to melt on the spot. The pain seemed to diminish as soon as it appeared though, her neck now feeling hot and tingly. She kept trying to breath but it was almost as if she couldn't find the air to do so with. Her mouth was simply hanging open, and her legs were wrapped tightly around this man who had his teeth buried in her neck. That's when she felt it: his left hand gliding up her side, leaving a searing hot trail in its wake. He released her neck from his bite and sat up on his knees, still buried inside her. He licked his lips, and Annika watched as she registered the blood on his face as her own. He ran his tongue around his teeth and over his lips, but there were still smudges of it all over his mouth. He didn’t seem to care though, as he brought his left arm up to his mouth and bit it. He didn’t wince and instead stared at her with his eyes still blown wide and black in the poor light of the room. He leaned back down, almost laying his entire body weight on her, only to readjust as he held his arm up to her lips. 

“You wanted it to be forever.” His arm was bleeding dark red. Annika stared at, watching it slide slowly down his porcelain skin like molasses. She nodded her head. His eyes seemed to take on a different visage; almost as though they were glowing in the dark. The smile on his face was wild and untamed as he lowered his arm to her mouth. As if on instinct, she opened her mouth, though expecting it to be warm was a mistake. It was ice cold as it went flowing over her lips, across her tongue and down her throat. She found her revulsion gone, and instead she closed her eyes and kept drinking down whatever was being offered. She didn’t care to stop and wait, nor did she bother being polite. He held his arm up to her mouth for only a moment more before he pulled it away with a gasp. He looked down at it, seeing little teeth marks here and there and a slight bruise forming. 

“You’re awfully eager,” he said, panting. He laughed, not bothering to wipe the blood from her mouth or his own as he pressed his lips to hers again. She could taste his own blood and hers in his mouth, and she ran her hands through his hair as their tongues collided. This time, his hips pushed against her with all the swiftness of hundreds of years of experience, and it was everything Annika could do not to go unconscious. She held onto him tightly, her fingers digging into the back of his neck as he continued. He finally broke their kiss and pushed his face into the crook of her neck. This time panting directly into her ear, his fingers tightly holding onto her blonde hair as his hips stuttered in his completion. She turned her head and pushed her forehead against his, kissing him once more. She licked her lips and tasted the sweet metallic flavor that lingered there. She suddenly realized how tired she was as her legs flopped down onto the bed. Her muscles ached; her neck was sore; her whole body was tired; and she wasn’t bothered by it in the least. Annika pushed herself against him, and he put his arm around her, pulling her against him. 

“So it’s forever now, right?” she whispered, her eyes beginning to close. She could feel his fingers in her hair, brushing it out of her eyes. His voice was the softest thing in the world at that moment, and she felt her eyes closing of their own accord. He chuckled darkly, the sound reverberating in his chest. 

“Yes, it's forever now.” She pushed herself against his chest as she felt sleep overtake her, knowing full well that this was forever, and she was perfectly fine with that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. I apologize. I know some of you have been waiting a long time and have been asking for this and wondering what happened. I had a lot of shit hit the fan and I wasn't in the right head space to write this chapter. I also apologize for its length, but I wanted to get all of this in there properly, so here we are. Anyway, I wanted to thank you all for reading this far along with this and for sticking by and waiting in the wings while I threw this together. 
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you


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